


The Hunter & The Hunter

by xmzame



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Demons, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Hunter!Castiel, Hunting, Implied Past Cigarette Addiction, Implied Switch, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Top!Castiel, bottom!Dean, hunter!dean, implied alcoholism, mild swearing, seriously it ends really REALLY fluffy i died, so basically supernatural creatures still exist but cas is human and a hunter tada, supernatural universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:33:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 85,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1871511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xmzame/pseuds/xmzame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about partnership, love, feud, and purpose. The Hunter & The Hunter tells a tale evolving around two characters - both hunters, both broken, and both so God damn stubborn. Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak always found themselves one year saving each other, one way or another- their tiny coincidental meetings leading up to them working together to hunt the demon that broke both their families.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. High Hopes

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up to anyone reading, POVs change more than once in each chapter! The underlined '++'s MAY indicate a change in POV, usually from Dean to Cas to Dean to Cas, but some characters have their own at one point. (There are probably some mistakes in maintaining the character's POV, and I deeply apologize for that, but I promise it doesn't happen often and I do try my best D:)
> 
> The pluses also may indicate a change in the situation within minutes/hours, while the horizontal line break indicates when a few days/weeks/months pass.
> 
> Okay? All good? Enjoy reading!

__

* * *

_***_

_I remember it now, it takes me back to when it all first started_  
_But I've only got myself to blame for it, and I accept it now_  
_It's time to let it go, go out and start again_  
_But it's not that easy_

_***_

Clutching his arm in immense pain, Dean winced as he applied firm pressure on to it, leaning against the nearest wall and waited silently, trying his best not to breathe so loud. He looked over at the blood that trickled down his left arm, leaving stains all over his favourite shirt. Damn it, Dean thought to himself. It was only the first day of his week off work. His  _first day._ He planned earlier on how he was going to spend his first day off, which honestly didn’t include much. He just wanted a trip to the nearest bar and to watch some television before catching up with some sleep. But here he was, hiding somewhere in a bar from a couple of freaking  _werewolves_.

Dean wrapped his arm with a hanky he happened to have in his jacket pocket, which slowed down the bleeding for a while. He waited for any signs indicating that the werewolves might still be there, getting ready to jump at him any second now. He had only one silver bullet with him at the moment and even if he used it, he still had another werewolf aching to have his heart for dinner.

He grabbed hold of his gun and peeked from behind the wall, studying the room fully before slowly stepping forward. The werewolves seemed to have left the bar, getting half of what they wanted. Dean wasn’t stupid. Werewolves had a great sense of smell; they obviously knew he was still in there. Dean took a few more steps before looking down at the bartender’s ripped, heartless body in guilt. He could’ve saved the guy, if he arrived just a few seconds earlier.

He dialled 911 and told them there had been an animal attack at the bar. Dean walked out, gun still firm in hand and it was a bit too dark to notice anything moving around. The fact that only half of the street lights worked didn’t help.

Just three seconds later he was thrown to the ground with an incredible force from behind, yet luckily sending his gun flying only an arm’s length away. The male werewolf seemed hesitant to claw at Dean, his bloodshot eyes turning soft for a moment. Dean managed to grab his gun in time with his good arm before the werewolf was able to rip him to shreds, and pulled the trigger.

The werewolf choked on its own blood, collapsing dead on top of Dean. He shoved its body off of him and ran to the Impala for more bullets. As soon as he loaded them, another gunshot was heard from just metres behind him. He turned around to see the lifeless body of the other werewolf, the female, lying on the ground, just three feet away from where he last stood.

He looked up further to see the figure of a man walking towards him with a gun resting at his side. The man kept his eyes locked on the dead werewolf as he walked, then turned his gaze to Dean when he stopped and stood four feet away. It was too late at night to see the man’s full features clearly, but Dean could have sworn he had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, and it made him nervous.

“Are you…alright?” the man asked, blinking a few times before forming his mouth in a straight line.

Dean was seemingly surprised at the man’s voice, he didn’t know why, but he was.

“Yeah, um, you know I- could’ve done it myself, but thanks- I guess,” he only managed to stammer out, while making nervous hand gestures at his own gun and car. He realized he probably looked idiotic then, and hoped it was dark enough for the man to not notice the tints of red that flushed on his cheeks.

The man squinted and smirked, looking down for a millisecond before meeting Dean’s eyes again. He tilted his head in a sort of odd manner when he noticed Dean’s arm, which started to bleed again.

“You should get that checked up,” he muttered, nodding at Dean before slowly turning away.

Hurriedly, Dean took a small step forward. “Wait,hold on,” he mumbled. He didn’t know what he was doing, or what it was about him that snapped a sudden interest.

The man turned his head first before fully facing Dean. “Yes?” he asked, slightly biting his lip.

“Uh, who are you?” was all Dean managed to get out, followed by a small nervous chuckle, because he really had no idea of what to say. He probably sounded as stupid as he looked now, completely avoiding eye contact with the man.

“I’m Dean, by the way, in case you wanted to know…” he added, letting his voice trail off at the end.

The man stared at the ground for a few moments and then glanced back at Dean. “Cas. Castiel,” he said, before turning and walking away.

Dean watched him walk and sighed, realizing what a complete fool he made of himself. “Well, guess I’m not seeing you again,” he whispered to himself and turned to face the hood of the Impala, placing back whatever weapons he had with him.

“Actually, Dean?”

Dean turned around at the mention of his name to see Castiel standing at the same place he stood just now. Cas was the one who seemed nervous this time, rubbing the back of his neck and fiddling with his fingers.

Dean stared as he noticed the amount of difference the way Cas looked from before. “Yeah, you okay?”

Cas looked at the ground and then into Dean’s eyes, as if he was braving himself to ask a question. “Yes just- would you mind- maybe, giving me a ride to the nearest motel?”

Dean smirked at the thought of him and Cas going to a motel together, but he knew it’d be impossible for them to get anywhere. “Yeah sure, it’s the least I can do for you,” he said, before gesturing an invite into his car. Dean could see the relief that washed over Cas. Cas nodded and entered the car, riding shotgun. The drive was silent for a while before Dean started to ask the regular questions.

“So, how long have you been hunting?”

Cas cleared his throat. “8 months,” he said.

Dean looked at him in surprise for a second, before turning his eyes back to the road. “Like, in total?” he asked. Cas nodded.

“Wow. What was it that got you ticked?” Dean asked, regretting it right after the words came out of his mouth. Shouldn't have done that, he thought to himself. No hunter found their way into hunting with a happy reason.

Much to Dean’s surprise, he didn't get a glare or a dirty look in return. “Demon. Lost my parents, then a friend, they were special to me,” Cas answered, as if he’d already answered the question many times before this.

Dean swallowed as he kept his eyes to the road. “Sorry to hear that,” he said.

“Don’t be.”

“What?”

“Don’t be. I’ve heard a lot about you, Dean. I knew you were quick enough to kill that werewolf by yourself,” Cas explained. Dean took a few seconds to register that. He wasn’t that surprised, but he still had a question in mind. “You know what- you can stop right here, I’m supposed to meet up with someone,” Cas added, pointing to a certain spot beside the road. Dean pulled over. Cas nodded a thanks to Dean and reached for the door.

“Wait, hold on.”

Cas turned around to look at Dean. “Yes?”

Dean paused for a second. “If you knew I could do it myself then- why’d you help me?” he asked.

Cas glanced at him and failed to suppress a tiny smile, slightly fidgeting with his hands. “Uh, I guess- good things do happen, Dean? Thank you for the ride, I’ll see you around,” he said before getting out of the car. Confusion was clear on Dean’s face. He rolled his eyes and drove off anyway.

_'Castiel. What a weird ass name.’_

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay then, I’ll get going,” Dean spoke after gathering and placing a bunch of weapons into a bag. He turned to leave the house before his brother stopped him.

“Dean, wait.”

Dean paused then turned to face Sam, making a small gesture with his hands. “Yeah?”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at Dean worriedly. “Nothing, just, you sure you wanna do this? Hunting by yourself? I mean, you know I’d go with you, if I could, but- you know.”

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother and loosened his grip on his bag. “C’mon, Sam, we’ve talked about this. I’ll be fine. Just, get some rest, kay? You need it.” He patted his brother’s shoulder.

“It’s just the last time you hunted alone it didn’t end very-“

“See ya tomorrow, Sammy!” he cut him off, leaving the place straight away before his brother got to argue any further.

For the first time in a long time, Dean worked on a case alone. It was something he needed to get used to, with Sam physically unable to hunt for a while. The way Sam broke his leg was pretty insane; literally, as it had to do with a psycho spirit they were hunting. It took some convincing to the doctors to do that all he did was fall off a ladder and landed badly. They said it could take up to 3 or 4 months for his leg to completely heal.

Dean found a case in Rapid City, which was about a 5 hour drive from Bobby’s. It probably wasn’t going to be easy, fighting alone and not having any back up like always, but he’ll come up with a plan. He always did.

5 hours later, Dean booked a motel and started his research.

++

Castiel fluttered his eyes open and soon realized where he was, and how stupidly easy he got caught.  _Damn it_. He hated himself whenever he made stupid mistakes like this. He was still pretty new to hunting, compared to other hunters, but he knew he could do better than this. He got himself knocked out and ended up in a dirty basement with the other victims. He winced as he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head.

He was seated in an old chair, with his wrists tied tightly at the back of it, and his ankles tied to the front. He peered around the room. It was dusty, like any other ordinary old basement. The only things that made it different were the large amount of books placed at the corner of the room in an unusual way. There were two other people in here with him; a man and woman who looked in their late thirties. They couldn’t have been here a lot longer than he had. He searched the same place just yesterday. They were tied up just like Cas, with their faces bruised and hair messed up.

The woman awoke and slightly jumped in her chair when she noticed Castiel’s presence, gaping at him. Her eyes looked worn out from crying, and her lips trembled when she spoke. “He’s going to kill us, he’s got three; we’re going to die.” She looked down at herself and failed to prevent herself from weeping.

“Hey, we’re going to get out of here, okay? I’m not letting him hurt anyone anymore.” Cas tried to reassure her, which wasn’t working that well, as the woman just shook her head and continued to cry.

“What- what did you mean when you said ‘he’s got three’?” Cas asked, softening his voice while focusing his eyes on the woman.

She looked up to face him and thought for a while before she spoke, “He said- he said he was going to start killing once there were three of us, or something like that, I don’t know.”

Castiel remembered researching and reading about this. The ghost was a spirit of a serial killer in Rapid City named Earl McLaren, back in the early 70s, who slaughtered his victims, taking three of them at once. He was shot dead by an officer, the bullet landing at the side of his forehead. McLaren had his own killing pattern, taking them once in three years, on the first Monday of September.

Cas thought for a moment. There was something he had to do right before he got hit in the head, but he couldn’t quite put his finger to it. He couldn’t even remember where or how he was knocked out so easily.

“What’s your name?” asked Cas.

“Melinda,” she stated, forcing a smile before turning to the unconscious man tied up next to her, who had cuts and bruises all over his face. “And that’s my husband, Chris. He- he put up a fight earlier, with whoever that man was.”

“Okay, Melinda, I know it sounds impossible, but I’m going to do what I can to get you and your husband out of here, alright? But I need to know something,” Cas said.

Melinda furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and slightly shook her head, “What do you need to know?” she asked.

“I need you to describe him, the thing- the guy that put you two here,” Cas said in a quiet voice, trying to not sound demanding.

Melinda looked up, trying to recall what she saw. “He moved fast, like it was impossible. I’m going to sound crazy but- it was as if he was…” She left her voice trailing. “Teleporting. I mean- I’m sure I was seeing things,” she added, bitterly laughing and shaking her head.

“You’re not crazy. There are things out there, Melinda. Not the best time to explain everything about that, but it’s true. Tell me what he looked like.”

Melinda thought for a while, “He seemed, I don’t know, normal. He didn’t look like a killer. He wore normal house clothes. Pretty thin, had ginger hair.”

It all came flashing back to him. At least a couple of hours ago, Cas was at his motel room, looking through McLaren’s personal files which he had managed to grab hold of. He had just gotten back from the cemetery back then. He remembered reading about Earl McLaren having a wife, and how she was still alive and staying at an old folks’ home nearby. Cas remembered driving to the place and meeting her, faking himself as a blogger. She talked a little too cheerfully for an old lady who had married a serial killer.

_“So, tell me, Mrs McLaren-“_

_“Oh, darling please, call me Irene!”_

_“Alright then- Irene.” Cas looked up from his notebook and smiled thinly at the elder woman who was seated opposite him. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Tell me how you found out about your husband, if you don’t mind?”_

_The elder woman made Cas nervous. He could tell she wasn’t happy the way she made herself to be. Her mouth was open, the corners of it pulling itself upwards and sideways to meet the middle of her cheeks, but her big, olive coloured eyes stayed the same. She let out a sigh and grinned at Cas._

_“My Earl was such a sweetheart, you know?” Irene clenched her jaw and pursed her lips as she let her eyes wander around the room, staying quiet for a few seconds._

_“We were so young and free; animals in love, people called us. He asked me to marry him when we were drunk in his apartment, and I said yes. I said yes because I loved him and I knew he loved me. I woke up alone the next day, disappointed. But all that disappointment flew away when he showed up at the door with red tulips and asked me the same question, ‘Will you be my wife?’ and I said yes again.”_

_Crinkles were actually present at her eyes this time when she smiled. Cas was amazed at the amount of detail Irene could actually remember from decades ago. Not a few moments later her smile was wiped off her face. “Earl had a few problems a few years after that. He started talking to the walls, ceilings, but never around me though. It was the same conversation. He always mumbled to himself about ‘not wanting to’. I asked him what was wrong and he just said he was stressed from work. He never yelled at me, even when I knew he wanted to. He stopped talking to himself one day, and that one day we went to a party. It was my cousin’s party, actually. We wanted to have some fun, just like the good old days._

_“And about an hour into the party he said he was gonna head outside for some fresh air. He didn’t return for the rest of the party, so I went to look for him. And that’s when I watched him murder my cousin-in law at the garden. He didn't try to explain himself. I was horrified, of course. I screamed, and he just- looked at me, as if he’d done nothing wrong or he didn’t know me. And that’s when he ran. The next time I see him- ten years later- he’s lying in a coffin.”_

_Irene looked away from Cas then, and kept her eyes peeled to the view outside. “You know, I- I haven’t been to the house in years.”_

_Cas felt guilty. He wasn’t good with these kinds of situations; he definitely needed to work on that. “Is there… do you own anything of his to remember by? You don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable,” He said in a calming voice._

_Irene turned her view from the window to Cas. “No, dear, it’s fine. I’ve said this to a lot of people, even though most of them think I’m officially insane, well- there’s a lock of his hair kept somewhere at his bedside, but like I said before- I haven’t been to the house in a long time.”_

_That was a little too easy, Cas thought. But hey, it’s something. Cas said his thanks and goodbye to Irene before walking out of the intimidating area. He drove to McLaren’s place again. It was the first Monday of September; if McLaren was still out there, some people needed saving. Cas grabbed hold of his gun and made his way into the house._

_He found his way to the bedroom and peeped into the room before entering. Two steps into the room was all it took for him to get thrown across, landing his head straight to the wall, knocking him out._

“That was all I needed to hear,” Cas said, nodding his way at Melinda. He silently cursed to himself. He could have gotten this case over with if he had been more careful. He looked behind his shoulder at the ropes that nearly suffocated his wrists. He was good with knots; he could free himself from them if he tried hard enough. He worked at it, but his wrists started to hurt as he struggled more. They were far too tight to get out by himself in time.

“If I could just- get rid of this one strangled knot-“

**_BOOM!_ **

Everyone, even Chris, now awake, jumped in their seats.

“Was that a gunshot?” Melinda cried out.

“Linda? Linda, what’s going on?” Chris’ voice trembled while he struggled with the knots tied around his wrists.

_What the hell?_

++

This McLaren guy was sure pissed off. Dean’s been thrown practically everywhere around the room now. McLaren appeared in front of Dean and held him by the throat, forcefully pushing him against the wall. Dean attempted to free himself, gasping for air at the same time. McLaren’s bloodshot eyes stared harder into Dean’s, as if he could kill him if their eyes made contact long enough.

“Is someone out there? Please, help us!” a muffled female voice cried out, followed by a male’s. “Help!”

McLaren shot his head towards the direction of where the voices came from, slightly loosening his grip on Dean. Dean took the chance to grab the iron crowbar that was previously in his hands, and swung it at McLaren, dissipating him.

“Help!”

Dean quickly followed the direction of the voices which lead him to the opening of the basement. “I’m gonna get you out!” Dean shouted from above, picking the lock of the trap door before swinging it open.

The basement had a low ceiling. Dean’s hair brushed the surface even when he lowered his body. It was a small room, and it took less than a second to spot the victims.

Dean rushed over to the one he was nearest to, the woman, and used a small knife to cut the rope that tied around her wrists and ankles. The woman breathed in and out, trying to calm herself while rubbing the marks left on her wrists.

“Thank you, thank you.”

Dean quickly moved on to the man beside her, doing the same for him. The couple took each other in their arms while Dean hurriedly shifted to the next person.

“You?”

Dean shot his head up forwards, pausing for a second as he met a pair of familiar eyes.

“You,” Dean whispered and cut the rope at the man’s ankles. He wasn’t sure who he was, or where he’d seen him before, but Dean knew he never thought he’d see him again.

The man stood up as soon as he was free and a certain thought itched at the back of Dean’s mind. ‘ _C’mon, Dean, think. Where have you seen him before? Blue eyes, blue eyes, blue eyes-‘_

Realization hit him as he put the puzzle pieces together.  _Castiel._

“You’re that guy- those werewolves-”

“No time to talk. Get these people out of here, quick,” Cas ordered, looking Dean in the eye before walking past him.

Dean quirked his eyebrows. “What- you expect me to just do what you say and leave the rest of the job to you? Listen buddy, no offense, but I didn’t drive all the way here to-”

“There’s a lock of his hair kept somewhere in the bedroom. I know where it is, just get these people to safety, please, and do whatever you want after that,” Cas said, turning to face him.

Dean let his eyes wander as he grunted and slightly nodded, “Alright, fine. You got a lighter?”

“Probably not, he removed most of my weapons while I was- DEAN!”

McLaren appeared a few feet behind Dean, knife ready in hand. Cas exclaimed, taking Dean’s arm reflexively when McLaren raised his weapon. Dean turned around and managed to stab McLaren slightly with the crowbar he already had his grip tight on, dissipating him once more.

“Great reflexes!” Dean emphasized on his sarcasm, sheepishly smiling at Cas. He smiled at the fact that Cas remembered Dean’s name, though. Their first meeting was about three months ago, and they barely had a conversation. Somehow, Cas’ name stuck with Dean as well.

Cas sighed and rolled his eyes, letting go of Dean’s arm. “He won’t be gone for long, let’s go.”

Dean nodded and ushered the two other victims out of the basement. “Watch your head, c’mon.”

++

Cas followed behind them. Dean threw a lighter in Cas’ direction before making his way out of the house with the other victims. Cas caught it and headed straight to the bedroom quickly, then jogged his way to the bedside table. Dust tickled his nose as he opened the drawers one by one. Cas drew a small smile on his face when he opened a translucent glass box to see a lock of ginger hair. His hand shook as he took several attempts to ignite the lighter. “C’mon, c’mon!” he whispered to himself, eyes slightly twitching before the lighter flew out of his hands metres away from him.

He could only turn halfway to see McLaren before he was greeted by several punches to the face. Cas fell to the ground as McLaren kicked him in the stomach a second time. The hair and lighter was out of his reach by then- they were barely in view as McLaren towered over him. Cas lifted his head as McLaren grabbed him by the collar, other arm raised with the sharp metal object in hand. For several moments, Cas thought, this was it. There couldn’t have been an escape from this. But he didn’t want to die- not now, not like this at least. It was too soon; there were so many things he’d left unsaid to people he knew, good or bad. There were favours he needed to return. There were memories that needed to be made, years from now. But this was it. There he was, about to get killed by a  _spirit_. A spirit, for goodness’ sake. Cas lowered his eyelids as the taste of iron in his own blood formed in his mouth. It’d be a quick death, at least, he thought to himself.

Cas’ eyes popped open after a few seconds of  _nothing_  as he felt McLaren actually loosen his grip on him. McLaren wore a look of shock on his face and exhaled heavily. “You… not you…” McLaren breathed out the words, his fearsome face looking the closest to actually being  _scared_. Cas furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and wiggled himself out of McLaren’s grip. Cas wasn’t sure what to expect from McLaren after that; another punch that could knock him out straight again, maybe, or a quick stab to the heart that would lead to his death. Instead, McLaren just stood there, staring helplessly into the empty space beside Cas.

“Not today… not mine.”

And with that, McLaren let out a ghostly scream as his body extinguished in flames. Cas widened his eyes and swallowed the gasp that almost escaped his mouth. He stared at the lock of hair that burnt on the ground, which could hardly even be recognized as hair anymore. He looked up further to see the lighter being held in another person’s hands.

“So, _Castiel_ , was it?”

Cas nodded at Dean and blinked hard. His face hurt, his body hurt, and hell, he had at least a dozen questions in mind. He attempted to get up from the floor, holding his stomach while he coughed out blood, only to slowly stumble forward. Dean rushed to his side, catching him before his knees could reach the ground.

“Hey hey, I gotcha,” Dean said, wrapping Cas’ arm around his neck. Dean held onto Cas’ hand to stabilize him as they made their way out of the place. Cas was too beat up to talk properly or ask any questions, even though he wanted to. He let his head fall onto Dean’s shoulder, hoping Dean wouldn’t mind. He was pretty damn beat up, after all.

They got to Dean’s car with the two other victims, Cas riding shotgun and the couple sitting at the back. Cas fell back to his seat, panting as he placed his hand on his stomach. Dean eyed him from the side. “He didn’t stab you anywhere, did he?” he asked with a hint of worry in his tone.

“No,” Cas managed to say, shaking his head in the process.

Dean opened his mouth as if to say something, but gulped instead. “Good, I don’t have to clean your blood off my seats then.” Cas rolled his eyes and rested his head, letting the darkness he came across at the corners of his eyes take over.

++

Cas woke up the next day covered in white sheets. He rubbed his eyes as he recalled the events that happened earlier. He remembered McLaren turning into flames in front of him, getting into a car, getting out of the car as Dean ushered him to the hospital. He remembered hearing the sounds of doors opening and many kinds of beeping that gave him a bit of a headache. He remembered several voices surrounding him, including Dean’s.  _Dean._

“Mornin’, sunshine.”                                                     

Cas almost jumped at Dean’s presence. Dean was sat near the corner of the room in a chair, newspaper in hands. Cas simply stared at him, swallowing his words as he wasn’t so sure of what to say. “You,” he murmured.

Dean blinked twice before speaking. “Yes, me. How you feeling?”

Cas glanced at Dean and then turned his head away. “I feel fine, my head doesn’t hurt so much anymore,” he said. “And, thank you for, you know.”

“Saving your ass? Hm, well. I guess I owe you a little for last time,” Dean mentioned, looking over at Cas.

Cas peered at him and nodded a few times, remembering the last time they met. “It’s Winchester, right? Dean Winchester?” Cas asked after a few moments of silence.

Dean stared. “Yeah. How do you know my last name?”

“Well, people talk about you, Dean. Hunters. Like I said- I think I’ve said before- I’ve… heard a lot about you,” Cas said, unsure of how Dean would react. Cas had gone to other hunters for help before, more than once. They’d talk about Dean and Sam Winchester, two silly kids doing whatever their dad told them to do. They’d talk about how much they changed after their dad passed, and how they actually became better hunters after that.

Dean smirked and formed his mouth in a straight line. “Yeah well, I’m sure you have,” Dean looked to the left and then back at Cas with his eyebrows raised. “And you’re  _Castiel_ ,” Dean emphasized on Cas’ name, saying it as if it was a rich word.

“Yes,” Cas replied, keeping his eyes on Dean.

“Fancy name, well,” Dean got up from his chair. “It’s good to see you okay. You look a whole lot better without all that blood on your face,” He said, sheepishly smiling. He reached his hands into his pocket before taking out a pair of familiar car keys and placing it on the table. They belonged to Cas.

“Listen, I gotta head home. Your car’s at the parking lot, A12.” He said, taking one last look at Cas before making his way out the door.

Cas sat there in his bed, wondering how Dean got hold of his keys, and then figured Dean probably took them from his jacket pocket while he was asleep. Cas felt the need to say something before Dean left but swallowed his words instead. He let his head fall back to the pillow and sighed. It was odd, he thought, how he could meet someone a second time this year by accident, barely even knowing them.

The sound of footsteps coming closer filled the room, before Dean poked his head at the side of the door. Cas looked up with quirked eyebrows. “Did you leave something?” he asked.

Dean laughed nervously. “Nah, just uh. Next time I see you, Cas, neither of us be beaten up, alright?” he said, winking before exiting once more.

Cas felt his face blush.  _'Next time, huh?'_

  

* * *

 

 

He shut his eyes and leaned against the nearest wall, inhaling in the smoke that looked incredibly visible outside at night. It had probably been a year since the last time he lit a cigarette. He needed one, badly. Cas shivered at the pleasure that ran through his body, letting the floating smoke slightly poke at his eyes as he breathed in once more. He let his arm hang loosely at his side, his fingers tracing the mouth of the bottle he held beside him. He looked at the cigarette and bit the inside of his cheek. He had to stop then, he knew it. He sighed and let the stick fall out of his hands and onto the sidewalk.

He held the half empty bottle in his hands, still, taking a sip every once and then as he walked. He decided to take a week off hunting, and Omaha was the only place he could go to. He had a relative there who let Cas stay at his apartment for the week. It was his third night off work, and he wasn’t getting much done, just as he thought he would.

Cas leaned against his car and thought to himself about a lot of things. He thought about hunting, his life before and after. He thought about the little amount of family he had left, and the possibility of losing another anytime now. It had been weeks since him and his sister made contact before she suddenly dropped comatose. The doctors still had no clue on what had caused it.

Cas jerked his head to the right as he heard the sound of glass shattering, followed by other things being thrown around. He turned and walked to the direction of where the noises came from. He reached for the gun in his trench coat as he stepped closer and heard coughing in the distance. The noises stopped then, but Cas could easily tell it came from the antique store, which he stood just a metre away from. He entered the store, taking a couple of steps after studying the room fully. He walked in further and held his gun firmly. He heard the coughing again, louder this time. It came from behind the counter.

Cas swiftly stepped forward and pointed his gun at whoever or whatever was behind the counter. He sighed, shoulders dropping as he placed the gun back in his coat. He squinted his eyes at the unconscious body that lay in front of him and took a closer look. When he realized who it was, his eyes rolled to a maximum level.

“You have got to be joking me.”

++

Dean sat up on the couch after he’d been asleep on it for what seemed like forever, rubbing his eyes and temples in the process.

“Dean?” Sam hovered his body forward, sitting in a chair beside the couch. “Dean?”

Bobby sat at his study and looked up, eyes glued to a book before. Bobby got up from his desk and with an aggravated tone he interrogated, “Dang it, boy! We thought you’d never get up!”

Dean wore a confused look on his face, stitching his eyebrows together as he yawned. “What do you mean? How long was I out?”

“Dean- you’ve been asleep for two and a half days.”

Dean looked at his brother, then to Bobby. He chuckled. “You’re joking, right? It couldn’t have been more than ten hours-”

“Sixty-one hours, Dean. You were out for sixty-one hours,” Sam said, looking at the clock; 1:19 pm.

Dean’s eyes widened at the fact and a sudden hunger arose in his stomach. “Wow, I definitely need something to eat,” He said as he got up from the couch and made his way to the fridge. He could already sense Sam rolling his eyes into his back. “So uh, what the hell happened to me?” Dean asked, calling out from the kitchen as he grabbed a sandwich from the fridge and chugged down a glass of water.

“You tell us, boy. What’s the last thing you remember?” Bobby asked.

Dean came back to the room with a sandwich in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He sat back on the couch and explained, “I was working on that- witch case, I think. Psycho bitch probably drugged me or something, I don’t know. I just remember feeling this sharp pain in my throat.”

It was odd, the way he explained it. He didn’t know what really happened himself. Dean noticed the exchange of looks Sam and Bobby gave each other. “What?” he asked.

Sam opened his mouth first. “If it was a witch, Dean- why aren’t you dead?”

Dean thought for a moment, why  _wasn’t_  he dead? Why would the witch leave him unconscious for days instead of just killing him?

“Look, I don’t know. I really don’t. And- how did I get here, anyway? That job was like in- Omaha,” Dean said curiously, before taking a bite out of his sandwich.

“Well, this is gonna sound unusual,” Bobby said as he leaned his back against his desk. “A fellow hunter found you. Unconscious and bloody at some antique store. He called your brother using your phone and told him about the situation. Then he brought you here. I’m surprised he had the patience to drive three hours here to save your sorry ass,” he added, scoffing at the last sentence.

This wasn’t making any sense to Dean. “Hmph. So what, some  _hunter_  comes to my rescue  _and_  drives all the way from Omaha just to make sure I was okay?” he said, turning to Bobby.

“That’s what happened,” Bobby said, shrugging his shoulders. Dean chewed on his sandwich before a certain thought came to mind. “Where’s my car?” he asked, eyes wide and mouth stuffed.

“Relax, it’s outside. He used your car to drive you here,” Sam said as he let his eyes wander anywhere but at Dean, knowing how Dean would react.

Dean swallowed his food before he spoke, “He  _what_ -wait- you guys let some stranger drive my car?” He made a gesture with his hands as his eyes widened as well.

“He ain’t a stranger, Dean. He’s a friend of mine. Besides, appreciate what he did for you, the guy had a week off,” Bobby reasoned, folding his arms before doing so.

Dean still thought about it and sipped his water. “This hunter, do I know him?”

“Well I didn’t think you did, he’s new to hunting. But apparently, he knows you. His name’s Cas,” Bobby stated, eyeing Dean.

Dean looked up from his glass when he heard the name. He paused, biting the inside of his cheek. “Cas as in- Castiel, Cas?”

Bobby nodded. “So you do know him.”

Dean lowered his eyes to the floor. “Yeah, it’s weird. I bumped into him at Rapid City just about a couple of weeks ago- saved the guy from a spirit, actually,” He remarked, squishing his eyebrows together as the weird thought stuck with him. “That wasn’t even the first time we met. A few months ago, the guy shot a werewolf that was out to kill me,” Dean continued, shaking his head.

Sam smirked as he got up from his chair and grabbed the crutches next to him. “Maybe you two were destined to find and save each other,” he joked, knowing Dean hated the ‘destiny’ talk.

“Shut up before I snap your other leg in half as well,” Dean said before taking the last bite of his sandwich. Sam smirked and made his way to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him.

Dean then turned to Bobby, who had been eyeing him for a while. “What?” he asked, getting up from the couch.

“Dean, what’s going on with your hunting lately?” Bobby asked quietly.

Dean clenched his jaw. “Nothing, it’s going fine,” he lied, looking at Bobby straight in the eye.

“I mean, you’ve been skipping nearly every case before this,” Bobby implied. “On your last case you nearly killed yourself over and over, heck, you would’ve if I got there five seconds later, and now you get knocked out easily by some witch?” He elaborated with a worried tone in his voice.

“Hey, do not underestimate those witches, they are insane enough to kill you for fun,” Dean said, twisting around the subject as he turned his back to Bobby.

Bobby rolled his eyes, “Dean, I’m serious. You gonna talk real with me for a second here, son?”

Dean sighed at Bobby’s words and turned to face him, pausing for a second. “I don’t really know, okay? Maybe it’s because I’m just ‘rusty’ or I hunt different when I’m alone and not with Sam- I don’t know, Bobby.” Dean sat back on the couch, touching his temples with his eyes closed.

Bobby sighed and opened his mouth to say something but swallowed his words when the bathroom door opened. He then turned away from Dean and sat back at his study. Sam came in the room, walking with both his crutches supporting him. He leaned against one and pointed the other at Dean. “You’ve been on that couch for nearly three days now. Move, it’s my turn,” Sam retorted.

Dean rolled his eyes as he got up and walked to the kitchen again when his stomach growled. He opened up the fridge and a look of disappointment showed on his face. He closed the fridge shut and walked out, grabbing his car keys when he spotted them. “I’m gonna grab something to eat, you guys want anything?” he asked, checking the amount of money he had in his wallet.

“Nah, I’m good,” Sam said, lying his head back against the arm of the couch with his eyes shut.

Dean turned to Bobby for a reply before he realized Bobby had just answered his cell phone. “Oh, heya Cas- yeah he’s awake alright, he says  _thanks_  by the way,” Bobby said into the phone, glancing at Dean as he stressed on the word ‘thanks’. Dean listened in, unsure of how he felt about this.

“You wanna talk to him?” Bobby asked Cas to the phone. For a millisecond, Dean froze. He couldn’t talk to Cas, not right now, not without thinking of what to say first. He shook his head many times and did a couple of hand gestures under his neck to let Bobby get the hint. Sam snorted and held back as many chuckles as he could.

Bobby rolled his eyes as he spoke into the phone, “Oh you know what- he just went out. Yeah. I heard, good luck with that- gotta be careful around them, though. Yeah thanks- bye.” Bobby hung up the phone and turned his head to Dean. “You got a middle school crush on the guy or something, Dean? Don’t worry, I’m  _sure_  there’s a possibility he feels the same way,” Bobby joked, failing to suppress the small smile on his face.

Sam let out a laugh as Dean glared at him. Dean thought about any possible comebacks while he opened and closed his mouth.

“No. Quit it, you two,” was all he managed to say, pointing at the both of them while they chuckled to themselves.

 

* * *

 

 

Jo stood in between the two men, who both looked as if though they had just received some shocking news. She cleared her throat. “So, I’m guessing you two know each other?” she asked, folding her arms across her waist.

Dean was the first to break eye contact, turning his face to Jo. “Uh- yeah, kind of, I guess,” he stammered, eyes wandering to the ceiling.

Cas nodded awkwardly, turning back to the front of the table in his seat as he still said nothing. Jo turned her eyes to Cas, then back to Dean, slightly smiling to herself before she clapped her hands on their shoulders. “Okay then- I’ll get you guys a drink,” she said, giving both of them a smile as she walked off.

Dean shortly breathed in then out, keeping his eyes locked on Cas as he pulled out a stool beside him. “So, you again,” he said, as he breathed out a small laugh, slowly taking a seat.

“What are you doing here? Have you been following me?” Cas asked a little too quickly, looking up at Dean. It was easy to tell that Cas gave himself a mental slap in the face after that.

Dean raised his hands, not too high. “Woah- chill, dude. I was thinking the same thing about you,” he said, looking away from Cas at mid- sentence.

Cas lowered his eyes and paused. “Yeah, sorry, I mean, it’s just- weird. The last time I saw you was last week, that other case was a month ago, and honestly I’m having trouble remembering the first time we uh, met.”

Dean shrugged. “Well, at least this time neither of us have blood on our face or a werewolf on our back,” he said before smirking his way at Cas. Two opened bottles were put down in front of them as Cas was just about to say something.

“Thanks,” Dean said to Jo before taking a sip. Jo smiled at him and turned her attention to Cas, reaching her hands for something in her pocket. “Cas, you wouldn’t mind- locking up after Dean leaves, would you? It’s late and I’ve been working the whole day today, my mom would never let -“

“I’ll do it, it’s probably my turn anyway,” Cas notified, holding out his hand before the keys were placed in his palm.

“Thank you,” Jo said and gratefully smiled before walking off.

Dean watched her leave and then turned his body back to face Cas. “You… live here?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

Cas placed his right elbow on the table, slightly raising his bottle as he sighed. “Yes. For the time being, at least. I got a little careless and well- sleeping in my car isn’t so comfy after a while,” he said, taking a sip after.

Dean looked at him and nodded before clearing his throat. “Uh, thanks, by the way. What you did for me last week; no other stranger would’ve done that,” he said quietly. Dean then studied the room; it had looked a lot different from the last time he visited. Chairs and stools were pushed in properly, and no stains were left on the furniture. They were the only ones in the room, and Dean hadn’t even noticed how close they sat next to each other until he felt the hem of Cas’ jacket slightly brush against his.

“It was just at Omaha, so, no big deal. Hopefully,  _that_ would be the last time either of us found each other in that kind of situation,” Cas said before breaking into a small smile. “So, what are you really doing here?” he added, before taking another gulp of his beer.

Dean stared at him and thought to himself. He wasn’t sure if he trusted Cas enough, and it was clear Cas didn’t trust him much either. “Workin’ a case. Was kinda hoping I’d get some info from Ash, but doesn’t look like he’s here.”

“Yeah, Ellen and Ash are uh- out for a couple of days. Can’t remember what for,” Cas claimed, letting his eyes wander anywhere but at Dean.

Dean laughed softly at Cas’ awkwardness. He looked cute like that, Dean thought. He’d noticed, from time to time they met, Cas was nervous around him, and so it was the other way around, even though Dean was clearly in denial to that. “What?” Cas asked, his voice faltering slightly.

“Nothing, nothing. Just…” Dean trailed off for a while, palming his own face as he placed his elbow on the table. “Who the hell are you, really?” he continued, smiling a little after that.

Cas’ eyes gleamed in the lighting. The blue in the pair that stared into Dean’s was a nice blue, hard not to notice the first time. They were a soft shade of dark blue that neared grey, and definitely, there was an interesting story held behind them. His eyes softened and held out a hand.

“Castiel Novak. Hunter of age…” Cas looked up and squinted, as if mentally counting. “29. Been to many places, fan of black and white films.”

Dean smiled and shook Cas’ hand, blushing as he accidentally let his thumb brush across Cas’ knuckles. “Pleasure to meet you, my name’s Dean Winchester. Turned 24 about eight and a half months ago-“

“No, you didn’t.”

“Fine, I’m 25.”

“Nope.”

“Alright, you got me, 27, I swear!” He said, laughing as he raised his hands in surrender. “Fan of classic rock, calming weather, and- Stephen King.”

Cas blushed as he realized they were almost fully facing each other then, their knees centimetres apart from touching. He smiled; it had been a long time since anyone had introduced themselves that way to him. They both took another sip from their bottles.

“So, Cas- you hunt alone?” Dean asked.

Cas nodded. “Yeah. I mean I did have a partner the first time, for the first few days, at least. He uh- we didn’t get along very much,” he said, frowning softly.

“You don’t get lonely, anyhow?”

Cas shrugged. “Nah, not really. It’s gotten used to. I visit my sister every once in a while anyway.”

The conversation was silent then, but the little amount of body language continued for a few minutes, smirks and glances hidden from the other. Dean looked at his watch. It was late, and he needed to get going.

Cas walked Dean out, hands in pockets. “I don’t fully trust you, Dean. You don’t trust me much either, correct?” he asked, tilting his head.

Dean smirked and bit his lip. “Correct. But that ain’t stopping me…” his voice trailed off. “From finding out who you really are.”

“I just told you who I really am,” Cas said.

“Yeah, but we don’t trust each other, remember?”

Cas laughed, “Right, right.” They stopped in their tracks when Dean leaned his back against the Impala. “So, I’m guessing, no numbers?” Cas added.

“No numbers.”

A chuckle escaped Cas’ mouth. “You do realize how easy it would be to get contact of you though, don’t you?”

Dean shrugged. “See ya around, Cas,” he said, smiling before getting into the car.

++

Cas watched him drive off and sighed to himself, shaking his head. He walked back to the Roadhouse and locked up, just as he had promised Jo. He cleaned up the place a bit, wiping the tables and picked up some crumpled papers that piled up in a corner. He headed to bed and shut his eyes, falling his head to the small side of the pillow, allowing sleep to take over.

He was a light sleeper, even a phone vibration could wake him. He groaned and reached for his phone in his bag. He flipped it open and squinted his eyes at the brightness of the screen.

**_1 New Message_ **

_This doesn't mean that I trust you. But fan of black and white films? Couldn't resist, sorry. -Dean_

 

 


	2. Firefly

_***_

_There's a firefly loose tonight_

_Better catch it before it burns this place down_

_And I lie if I don't feel so right_

_But the world looks better through your eyes._

_***_

Dean sighed in pleasure as he felt the cold water splash against his face, washing off the remaining vampire blood that splattered on his forehead and cheeks thirty minutes before. He dabbed his face with a towel and looked at his reflection in the mirror.

He was dead tired, and he definitely looked it as well, the bags under his eyes heavier than ever. He’d been hunting day after day, travelling from place to place for hours to make up for the amount of cases he missed the past month or two. Sam still couldn’t hunt, he had another couple of months left with his crutches. Eventually Dean got better at working alone; he used less and less energy the more he practiced, whether it were spirits, shape shifters or werewolves he was hunting. He was absolutely drained, though. He battled against four vampires that evening, beheading them one by one using a few tricks he learned along the way.

He returned to the motel soon after and took a short shower, rinsing away the sweat and blood produced from the hunt. He dried his hair and put on an extra shirt with a pair of pants he brought along, before relaxing his body as he fell back to the bed. He lay on his stomach, squishing his face into the pillow and dropped his eyelids. It took several tosses and turns through the night to get him to sleep.

He woke up the next day, squinting at the light that shined through the window. He let out a stretch before dropping his head back to the pillow and sighed, taking a few breaths after that. That was the best sleep he had in days.

**Tick, tock.**

Damn it, there was that annoying ticking again, he thought. He looked at the clock that read noon and reached his arm out to the bedside table to grab his phone. The screen flashed into his face, blinding him for a moment. He blinked a few times and squinted his eyes at the bright screen that read:

 **_2 Missed Calls_ ** **_– Unknown_**

Dean nearly jumped when the phone in his hand vibrated and rang. There it was again.

**_Incoming Call – Unknown_ **

“Hello?”

_“Dean.”_

It was an unexpected familiar voice, a voice he hadn’t heard on the phone before. “Cas?”

_“Hello, Dean. Where are you?”_

Dean smirked. “What, you don’t answer a single text message but you want to know where I am?”

There was a silence on the other end of the phone.  _“I was, uh- I didn’t think that- um,” Pause. “Dean, we need to talk. In person.”_

“Why?” he asked lazily, smiling sleepily into the phone. Cas sounded serious, but Dean thought he could push his buttons a bit further.

_“It’s important. Don’t— ask how important.”_

“How import—”

_“VERY, Dean! Just tell me where you are,” Cas demanded._

Dean pictured Cas’ annoyed face and laughed to himself. “I thought you didn’t trust me, and I didn’t trust you?”

_Another silence. “I’m afraid we have to, now.”_

“Hmph. But what if-“

_“God damn it, Dean, for once can’t you— … I am not arguing with you on the phone. Is it- is it possible for us to meet anytime soon? I’m in Kirksville, Missouri.”_

“Yeah, alright- fine, pissy. I’m not that far away, I’ll be there,” Dean said, sitting up in bed.

_“..Really?”_

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “Yeah, really. Why?”

_“Nothing, I just, I didn’t expect it to be that- easy. Anyway uh, I’ll text you the details?”_

“Yeah. Yeah you do that, sunshine,” Dean smirked, winking before he realized Cas couldn’t see him. He rolled his eyes at himself and hung up the phone before Cas could respond.

It’d been ten days since he last saw Cas at the Roadhouse. Cas had replied his texts once and once only, that being the first time Dean got hold of his number from Bobby and texted him. Though he never admitted it, Dean was the tiniest bit hurt by that.

_‘202 E Jefferson St Kirksville, MO 63501. Call me when you get there?’_

Dean scanned his eyes over the text message several times before replying with,  _‘Sure thing.’_

He got himself ready and left Corydon, grabbing a burger for lunch on his way out. He called Sam and let him know he’d be home later than he thought. He drummed his fingers over the steering wheel as the music on the radio played, softly humming and singing along to the lyrics he knew.

After two hours of driving, Dean reached the address Cas gave him and stepped out of the car. He dialled Cas’ number and looked up at the building. It was an apartment building, didn’t look too new or old. A few other cars were parked outside, and people still walked the streets there.

“I’m here, where are you?” he said as soon as Cas picked up, walking towards the building.

_“Oh, uh- okay, room 20A. First floor, third room to your left.”_

“Got it.” Dean headed inside the building and took a couple of minutes to find his way to the room. He stared at the number on the door and prepared himself by breathing in then out, before giving two light knocks to the hard wood.

Dean wore a confused expression on his face when he heard something fall from inside the room near the doorstep, followed by a muffled curse. Just as he was about to call out to ask if everything was okay, the door swung open.

Cas had a towel draped over his shoulder, his hair wet, breaths slightly heavier than normal.

“Hi- Dean, please come in,” he said, moving aside as he opened the door wider. Dean smirked, noticing the many tiny hairs that stuck out of place at Cas’ head. He stared at him up and down and also noticed Cas’ shirt wasn’t buttoned up properly, a few buttons closing in with the wrong hole.

“Well, don’t you look terrific,” he said before stepping into the apartment, taking a look around the place.

Cas blushed as he stared down at his own shirt, closing the door in front of him. “Yeah, sorry about-” He said, swirling his finger around at his hair. “All this. I didn’t expect you to get here this early. Can I get you a drink?” he asked, motioning his head to the kitchen.

“Yeah sure, why not,” Dean said, studying the place more. It wasn’t big or small, but it was easy to tell that Cas hadn’t paid much for it. Cosy and clean enough, though. It was just enough for a person or two to stay at. A couple of picture frames were placed at a small table that stood beside the couch, catching Dean’s attention.

Cas nodded and headed to the kitchen, walking past Dean. Dean heard the fridge open and the sound of bottles rattling against one another. He turned around and saw Cas standing by the fridge, fixing the buttons on his shirt. Dean smirked when he caught a glimpse of Cas’ tan stomach, and quickly looked away as Cas shot his head up forwards.

Cas came into the room with two bottles in his hands and smiled thinly at Dean, gesturing his head to let Dean have a seat opposite him before handing him a beer.

“Thanks,” Dean murmured, taking a seat himself. He took a sip out of the bottle and gave a quizzical look at Cas, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Cas, is this- did you put fucking  _holy water_  in this? Really?” Dean asked, looking at Cas with judgmental eyes.

Cas blushed, looking down at the floor in guilt as he rubbed the back of his neck. He shrugged, and lifted his eyes at Dean.

“I had to make sure?” he said, his sentence coming out as more of a question as he smiled apologetically.

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head, biting his lip to stop himself from smiling and laughing at Cas’ whole- thing. He set the bottle down on the coffee table between them and asked, “Okay, so, what is it that’s so important you had to tell me in person?”

Cas’ opened his mouth, eyes wandering around the room. “Right. Um- I don’t think there’s any other way to put this- I’m gonna need you to hear me out, before you start throwing curses at me.”

Dean slightly raised his eyebrows, hovering forward in his seat. “What is it?”

Cas looked at Dean anxiously and breathed in. “I think our family cases might be related.”

“Come again-  _what?_ ” Dean asked, after registering Cas’ words into his head.

“My family, your family— they didn’t die an ordinary death, Dean. They died the same way, and the demon that killed them-“

Cas was cut off. “A  _demon_?”

“Yes, hear me out-“

Once again. “No offense, Cas, but I think you’ve got it wrong, my parents-“

“Your mother went first. She died in a house fire, on a Wednesday of December when you were four. It looked accidental, but it wasn’t.  _You know that._  Fast forward twenty years and three months, your dad doesn’t return your calls. He goes missing. And exactly four days later, you find him in a ditch, no pulse, with barely any marks left on him,” Cas explained and looked at Dean, who was silenced the whole time.

Dean’s face had completely changed from before, his jaw clenching and eyes staring hard into Cas’. “How the hell do you know all that? And don’t tell me it’s because you’ve ‘heard a lot’ about me-”

“Because that is—  _exactly_  what happened, to my parents as well. The only difference between our stories is that your father became a hunter, while mine didn’t. And… that’s not all,” he said, getting up from his seat. It was insane, Dean thought. Cas had mentioned a few things only Dean and Sam would have known, and it couldn’t have been anyone else that told him all that. Cas walked over to a desk that was pushed up against the wall and grabbed a bunch of papers. He walked back and set them on the coffee table.

“The demon— he’s called Alastair. He’s done the same thing to other people; ordinary people, Dean. I’ve talked to them. Look at this.” Cas pointed to a map, that had a few scribbles here and there. “The crosses mark where each of these people were born and raised. One in North Dakota, one in Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Illinois…”

“All from the mid-west,” Dean stated, studying the map further.

Cas nodded. “That’s right. Including you and me.”

Dean looked up and faced Cas. “Alright then, tell me. How did you find out about this ‘Alastair’?”

“I ran into and got a couple of people- things, to talk. I did my research. Look, I’m probably not making much sense to you and you’re not going to trust me anyway— so…” Cas trailed off, frowning before turning away from Dean, attempting to hide the loss of hope in his eyes.

Dean eyed him, biting his tongue to prevent anything stupid from coming out of his mouth. He waited a few seconds.

“Well, I might just believe you.” Oops.

Cas turned his head first before fully facing Dean and opened, closed his mouth. He took a deep breath and still couldn’t get out any words, his eyes lowering to the floor. “What?”

Dean leered up at him and stood up from his seat, sighing. “Okay so, let’s just  _say_ , I do believe you. What do we do then, huh? Hunt down this demon— together?” he asked, focusing his eyes onto Cas’ face. It looked as if Cas had shaved just yesterday, the tiniest hint of stubble starting to show. His hair still stuck out in the wrong areas and he still managed to look so damn-

“It’s… what I’ve been really hunting for this past year. I’m not letting that thing get away with it, not anymore. I’m not going to let it hurt others,” Cas said, sounding more confident as he finally made eye contact with Dean.

Dean half smiled at him and stepped forward. “Well then, would you have the honour to work with me to gank this evil son of a bitch, Castiel?”

Cas raised his eyebrows slightly as he stared at Dean’s mouth before meeting his eyes again. “I suppose. Do you believe me entirely?” he asked.

“I suppose,” Dean answered, repeating Cas’ words.

“Good then.”

“Great.”

“…Good,” Cas said again, nodding and smiling softly. He walked past Dean and grabbed his beer from the coffee table, taking a sip. Dean smirked and watched him.

Cas shook his head after taking that sip, laughing breathily as he placed the bottle back down on the table. “I didn’t even see you switch our drinks. Really, Dean?”

Dean shrugged. “I had to make sure.”

 

++

  _“So exactly how long are you gonna be gone?”_

“I don’t know yet. This is- something real big, man,” Dean said into the phone, pacing slowly in Cas’ kitchen as he sneaked a peek at Cas in the living room, who had his hand on his chin as he stared at the screen of his laptop.

_“I wanna help.”_

“Sam, you can barely lift your leg two inches in the air without looking like you want to poop.”

An angry sigh was heard on the other line.  _“This is the thing that killed Mom, and Dad, and God knows maybe it even killed—” Breathe in, out. “Look, I know I can’t hunt, or walk, but you gotta let me do something. Please, Dean.”_

Dean sighed. “We’ll figure something out, ‘kay? We always do, don’t we?”

_“…Yeah- yeah, sure I guess.”_

“Alright. Listen, I gotta go. I’ll probably see ya in a couple of days, ‘right? Bye.” Dean frowned as he hung up the phone. He could tell Sam was upset by the sound of his tone, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Dean shook his head lightly and put his phone back in his pocket, making his way back to the living room.

Cas glanced up from his laptop at Dean as he came in the room, before turning his eyes back to the screen. “Everything alright?” he asked.

“Yeah- yeah, everything’s fine,” Dean said as he took a seat on the couch opposite Cas. He turned his head to the table next to him, and kept his eyes locked on the picture frames that stood on it.

One photo was in black and white, of a young couple who Dean assumed were Cas’ parents. The other photo was of Cas standing in between a red haired girl and a young man, their arms hanging loosely around each other. The girl looked different from Cas, but she shared a striking resemblance to the woman in the black and white photo. The man, however, had a hint of similar features to him, although he looked slightly older than him at the time. Judging by Cas’ appearance, the photo had to be taken at least five years back.

“This your family?”

Cas looked up and stared at the pictures beside Dean. “Yeah. My parents, brother, sister.”

“Where are your siblings now?” Dean asked, glancing at Cas who went back to typing away on his keyboard.

Cas didn’t respond and squinted his eyes at the screen, furrowing his eyebrows at the same time as if he had seen something odd. He hovered forward in his seat and turned his laptop around for Dean to see whatever was on his screen.

“Four suicides, all women, all dead a day before their wedding.”

Dean changed his glance from the screen to Cas several times. “You wanna work an actual case?”

“Well, we can’t just not- do anything until we find something on Alastair. I don’t know how you hunt, and you don’t know how I do either. We’re not going to just walk in on this demon cluelessly,” Cas said and pressed his lips together, observing Dean. Cas shrugged and looked away, adding, “I’m just saying- maybe it’d help if we got to know each other better.”

Dean pried at Cas and then half smiled. “I’ll tell ya something I do know about you. You’re real bad at flirting. Cute, though. Anyway, tell me about this case. Where is it?”

Cas blushed and absent-mindedly widened his eyes. “I wasn’t trying to-” He paused and halfway rolled his eyes, turning the laptop around to face him. “Greenville, Ohio. It says here that there was no connection found between the four women, but apparently all of them killed themselves the same way; self-poisoning. All within the same month.”

“Self-poisoning like- taking in stuff like rat poison?” Dean asked.

Cas nodded.

“Well- alright then, let’s check it out,” Dean said, getting up from his seat. “Hey, you mind if I get a real beer?”

“Yeah, sure- please help yourself. I’ll check if there are any flights to Ohio-“

“Woah, woah. Hold up. No planes,” Dean said, looking serious as he pointed at Cas.

Cas raised his eyebrows. “Why not?”

“Just… no planes.”

Cas shrugged his shoulders, sighing. “Fine. You drive eight hours, then.”

 ++

The first few hours of the drive was pretty silent, besides the sound of flipping pages as Cas had straight away brought out  _To Kill A Mockingbird,_ one of his favourite classics. He read and read and read, until he decided to stop at one point. He folded the corner of the page and shut the book, before placing it on his lap.

“You’re not gonna finish it?”

Cas turned his head to Dean, who kept his eyes on the road. “I’ve been reading this since high school, I know what happens. And reading gets tiring after some time, unfortunately.”

“What  _does_  happen at the end?” Dean asked.

Cas thought for a moment. “Well- there’s a lot more in the middle. But it ends with Scout and Jem getting attacked by Bob Ewell while walking home, Jem gets his arm broken. They get saved by Boo Radley. And some other stuff happens.”

Dean nodded as Cas spoke. “Boo Radley as in the creepy guy who ate raw squirrels and cats?” he asked.

“Yeah, him. The squirrel and cats thing was just a rumour, though. Did you not read it for school?”

Dean smirked. “Well, I would’ve, if I sat for finals and stayed at one school for more than three months. Never got to- you know, try it properly.”

Cas shrugged and looked down, thinking of what to say. “You could borrow it one day, if you’d like.”

“Yeah sure, one day,” Dean said, his eyebrows going up before that. “What are your favourite black and white films?” he asked.

Cas raised an eyebrow at Dean, smiling. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because we’re supposed to get to know each other.”

Cas laughed softly as a blush came across Dean’s cheek. He shrugged and looked to the right as he recalled the many films he had watched. “Right. Um,  _12 Angry Men_.  _It Happened One Night_.  _To Have and Have Not…_   _Nosferatu_.”

Dean shook his head and broke into a smile. “Nosferatu? Really, even up until now?”

“Guilty pleasure. Well the movie  _obviously_  doesn’t scare me anymore as much as it used to,” Cas stated, looking over at Dean. “What are… your favourites of Stephen King?” he asked.

Cas watched Dean tap his fingers on the steering wheel as he thought to himself. “ _The Stand, The Shining_. Oh- and  _It_ , because it scares the living crap out of my brother whenever I bring it up,” Dean said and chuckled to himself.

“Your brother, Sam, right? How’s his leg?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, well- careless kid fell the other day so, gonna take about another month or two before he can hunt again. How do you even know about his leg?”

“I met him, when he was in crutches. Remember? Found you in Omaha and brought you back to Bobby’s. He seemed- nice,” Cas said.

Dean’s eyes flickered to Cas and then back at the road, laughing nervously. “Right, right, Omaha. Yeah, thanks again for that, I guess. Didn’t trouble you, too much, did I?” he asked.

Cas blinked at him and pondered over Dean’s words, sighing softly as he remembered having to carry an unconscious Dean out of the antique store without looking suspicious, and going through massive traffic on the way. “No. No trouble- at all.”

He relaxed his shoulders as he leaned back in his seat and started to play with the hem of his jacket. “Um- Dean, just so you understand, I mean you can tell; I’ve been  _busy_ , this past week and I didn’t exactly have much- time? To reply to your-“

“Save it, I get it- we don’t need to go there. Besides, I mean, we’re supposed to be- professionals here, right? Just, you know, strictly on the job,” Dean said, his eyes shifting to Cas as his mouth formed into a small smile.

“Yes of course- professionals. Nothing else, absolutely,” Cas stated, blushing and looking down as he realized he had made things ten times awkward. He heard Dean chuckle softly to himself.

Cas picked up the book from his lap and continued to read, or at least tried and pretended to. He read on for an hour and actually finished the book for what seemed like the tenth or twelfth time in his life.

A sigh came from Dean’s direction just as Cas put the book away. “I thought you’d never stop reading. C’mon, you hungry?” Dean asked, slowing down the car before parking in front of a diner.

“Starving,” Cas said. Dean got out of the car first, followed by Cas. A blush and a clench of the jaw was almost clear on Cas’ face as he mumbled a thanks to Dean who smiled as he held the door open for him.

Cas ordered a bacon burger while Dean had a crispy chicken sandwich. They ate, had a weirdly comfortable conversation about burgers as that was the first time Cas had one in forever. They talked more in the car after that; about the case, Alastair, their favourite things, and the tiny habits they seemed to notice of each other within the few hours they spent alone.

They finally arrived at a motel in Greenville, Ohio four hours later. It was late, and they were both tired enough to sleep.

“Okay, so uh- we start all the visiting and the questioning and stuff somewhere before noon, that alright?” Dean said as he placed his bag beside one of the beds. He looked at Cas, who had already leaned half of his body against the headboard of the other bed.

“Yeap,” Cas said, staring blankly at the space in front of him. He looked like he was going to sleep any time soon, but at the same time he seemed determined to keep himself awake.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows and slightly tilted his body to get a better look of Cas’ face. “You can sleep, you know,” he said.

“I know. I will. But you have to sleep first.”

Dean let out a laugh. “What, you afraid I might do something while you sleep? I ain’t Count Orlok, not gonna suck on your blood. You sleep first,” he said, crossing his arms after sitting on the bed.

Cas opened and closed his mouth and stuttered out, “I said I wasn’t scared of that movie anymore. I- I’m older, so… you do what I say.”

Dean snickered and rolled his eyes. “Seriously, that’s the  _only_ thing you can come up with?” he said, shaking his head. Cas shrugged.

“Cute. Hmph, never really got to hear that from someone else, though; I was always the one saying it. Anyway, how about this,” he said, leaning his body back against the bed as he elbowed the pillow. “You and I sleep, or at least pretend to sleep, right now.”

Cas eyed Dean’s position on the bed and bit his tongue to not get distracted. “How exactly does that change anything?” he asked.

“It doesn’t. You know what, whatever,  _I’ll_ hit the sack first- I’m dead freakin’ tired,” Dean said as he rolled over and lay on his stomach before reaching his hand out to switch off the lamp.

“I win,” Cas quietly said, smirking to himself before turning his light out as well.

“I heard that,” Dean mumbled into the pillow.

Cas turned his head and watched Dean physically doze off, even though it was dark, remembering the words he said earlier.

  _‘We’re supposed to be professionals here, right? Just, you know, strictly on the job.’_

He sighed and pulled the blanket halfway over his body, shifting his body to get comfortable.

That night, he held his grip looser on the knife that hid underneath his pillows.

++

“Dean, are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, you’ll do fine. Just, don’t freak out or anything, I’ll do most of it anyway.”

Cas nodded and followed behind Dean. He took a few steps and pulled Dean gently by the arm. “But wait- it seems illogical, don’t you think? You never see any feds that are our age and-“

“I said you’ll do  _fine_ , Cas. You gotta learn and use this anyway, at some point of being a hunter,” Dean said, smiling his way at Cas and continued to walk. “Ready?” he asked, stopping in front of the door step of the first house they were visiting.

Cas hesitated before nodding.

Dean gave him one more glance before he pressed the doorbell. Footsteps were heard before the door swung open to a middle aged man with brown hair and dark circles beneath his eyes.

“Can I help you?” the man asked.

“Vincent Harrington?”

The man nodded. Dean pulled out his badge and motioned for Cas to do the same, flickering his eyes towards him. “My name’s Agent Noble, this is my partner, Agent Hensley. We’re here to ask you a few questions about your fiancée, Lindsey Ferris.”

Vincent moved his eyes from the badges, studying them, to the floor, then to them and stepped aside. He held the door open wider and nodded, gesturing for them to come in.

“Gotta say, you both seem pretty young for federal agents,” Vincent said as they both stepped into the house. Cas fidgeted and looked over at Dean, his fingers pulling on the hem of his own jacket. Dean noticed it and regarded him with a raise of the eyebrows. He hesitated before sliding his hand against Cas’ when Vincent’s back was still turned to them.

Cas quit it immediately.

“We’re more experienced than we look,” Dean said with a thin smile.

Vincent took a seat and invited them to sit on the opposite couch. “I don’t understand, though, my fiancée- it was a suicide. What do the feds got to do with this?” he said.

“Well, with three other suicides happening within the same month in the same town, it’s pretty suspicious, don’t you think?” Dean said.

“I heard. Awful, the stuff that’s been happening around here.”

“Mr Harrington, did you or your fiancée happen to have any connection with the other victims? Sandra Lewis, Theresa Montgomery, Paige Knightley?” Dean asked, naming the victims one by one.

Vincent eyed the both of them and shook his head. “No, I don’t think I’ve even seen any of them in person.”

Dean nodded and flickered his eyes towards a rather quiet Cas. “Sir, would you mind if my partner, here, took a quick look around the house?”

Vincent let out a short sigh. “No, sure- go ahead,” he said. Dean watched Cas get up from his seat before turning back to Vincent.

“Not much of a talker, your partner,” Vincent softly said when Cas was looking around the drawers.

Dean chuckled softly. “Yeah, he’s uh- more of the quiet and observant type.  _Loves_  observing things, and people,” he said.

Cas turned his head to Dean’s direction and squinted at him, sending him a soft glare before walking into the kitchen.

Dean clenched his jaw before clearing his throat and moved his eyes back to Vincent who gave him a questioning look. “Anyway- any idea why Lindsey would do this to herself? Had she been acting strange or unusual before this?”

“Unusual how?”

“Unusual like- maybe avoiding contact with people, or sudden mood changes?” Dean asked.

Vincent shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I mean- she was just a normal woman who got back home late from work and went shopping with her friends on the weekends, I don’t understand why she’d do this. She was so happy and- we were gonna get married and start a life together the next day.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Dean said before looking up at Cas who came back with something in his hand. Cas held it up for Dean to see and put it back in his coat.

A hex bag.

“Mr Harrington, what exactly did your fiancée work as?” Dean asked.

“She was a- restaurant manager, what does that have to do with this?”

“Just making every detail count. Anyway, we don’t want to bother you any longer so, we’ll be off. Thank you for your time, sir,” Dean said, nodding before getting up from his seat.

Cas acknowledged Vincent and then followed behind Dean as they walked out. He pulled out the hex bag once they were out of sight.

“She was cheating on him,” Cas said.

“What? How can you tell?”

Cas looked around and then pulled out a few envelopes from his coat. “Found these and the hex bag underneath the sink. They’re recent letters- and pictures, from another man called Ricky, and well, they’re kind of… explicit,” he said, the slightest bit of blush appearing on his face.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows and took the envelopes from Cas’ hand. He shuffled through the photographs and widened his eyes. “Well Ms Ferris has certainly been getting home late,” he said, smirking while he still ogled his eyes at the photos.

Cas looked up, adverting his eyes from the photos. “That is, a dead middle aged woman you’re looking at.”

“A dead middle aged woman with Ricky, who doesn’t seem more than- hmph, 25, judging by his-“

“Moving on,” Cas cut him off, snatching the photos from Dean’s hands before walking past him. “Kenneth Greene, Sandra’s would-be husband. See if there’s a hex bag or any clues of an affair in the house,” he said.

“You don’t wanna see or find out where Ricky lives?”

Cas stared blankly at Dean. “We- or you, can visit Ricky later. Stay the night, if you want, really,” he said firmly as he stopped and stood in front of the passenger door of the Impala.

Dean stopped in his tracks and smirked, raising his eyebrows. “What, you jealous already?” he teased, before swinging the car door open.

Cas shook his head and rolled his eyes before entering the car. Dean did his best to stop himself from grinning the next few minutes.

They drove three miles further and arrived at the second victim’s house within a few minutes. They covered the same process, and another hex bag was found behind a fruit basket. Kenneth Greene admitted he knew about the affair that went on between his fiancée and her older boss, but it didn’t bother him so much as he had done the same thing before.

“I don’t understand, why would a couple like that want to get married in the first place?” Cas questioned when they were far enough from the house.

Dean sighed. “Sex, money? I don’t know, things people do nowadays for ‘em,” he said. “And hey, looks like you’re getting better at the whole fed thing, this time I didn’t have to hold your hand the way through.”

“Quit being a dick, there’s no need for that.”

They went to the other two houses and got more of the same results; a hex bag and hints of an affair. All four hex bags had an extra unusual ingredient in them; black liquid.

++

“So, you know how to- do, work this kind of stuff,” Dean said as he watched Cas work with the microscope.

“Took several classes for biochemistry. I know a thing or two.”

Dean raised his eyebrows, impressed. “So, you’re smart.”

“I prefer the word ‘gifted’. Quick learner, according to my teachers.”

Dean smiled softly as he quietly watched Cas so focused on whatever was under that lens. He seemed to know what exactly he was doing. His eyes were still visibly blue, even when they squinted every now and then. His lips were parted just the slightest, as his hands switched between the two knobs. He seemed relaxed, but at the same time, the curiosity in his eyes said otherwise.

Dean quickly looked away when he was nearly caught staring.

Cas lifted and moved his head to stared at the drop of liquid on the glass slide, biting the inner part of his cheek. “That’s weird.”

“What is?” Dean asked.

Cas paused and shook his head. “No, nothing. I must’ve- seen it wrong,” he said before hovering forward in his seat to squint into the eyepiece again. He turned the knobs gently and handed out his hand.

“Pass me a pencil and a paper.”

Dean did as he was told, reaching out for the nearest available objects. He watched as Cas had so effortlessly sketched out whatever he was looking at. Cas narrowed his eyes at the drawing and slumped back in his seat.

“It’s blood.”

Dean looked at him, wondering if he heard right. “Blood? When you said you knew a thing or two about this stuff you didn’t mean  _literally_ , right?”

“It’s seriously blood, Dean. It’s weird. See for yourself,” Cas explained and put the drawing on the table between them. He got up and made his way to one of the drawers before pulling it open.

“Wait a minute, black blood, affairs— that sounds familiar, are there any weird marks on her stomach? Or chest, maybe?” Dean asked, turning to Cas.

Cas tilted his head as he lifted the sheet. “There’s this octagon on the side of her waist. Could pass as a birthmark, though.”

“Same for Theresa?”

Cas pulled out another drawer and did the same. He nodded.

“Thought so,” Dean said as he typed away on the computer. He half-smiled at the results that came out.

“What is it?” Cas asked as he walked over to Dean and bent forward to see the computer screen. Dean smirked.

“Found our witch.”

 ++

“Alright, thanks Bobby,” Dean said into the phone before hanging up. He turned his head to Cas, who was lying slumped halfway against the bed. He had what looked like a mini sketchpad and a pencil in his hands, the pencil simply dancing across the small piece of paper.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, tilting his head as he smiled a little at how content Cas looked.

Cas’ mouth formed into a tiny, innocent smile that made his cheeks look chubbier. “You should’ve seen the view last night. Fireflies, everywhere,” he said, glancing up at Dean as he revealed a detailed sketch.

“Honestly- man, humour me, is there anything you  _can’t_ do?” Dean asked, crossing his arms.

“Plenty of things. Painting, baking, golf. I can’t make jokes either, so, people don’t think I’m much of a funny person,” Cas hastily answered, as if he had no verbal filter.

Dean smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t have to make jokes to be funny,” he said. Cas smiled sadly and looked down at the same time, as if he was recalling something related. Dean noticed and swallowed.

“I think you’re funny,” he murmured.

Cas’ eyes gleamed when they lifted to look at Dean. He stayed quiet as hints of red were present on both of their faces then.

“Anyway uh,  _the case_ ,” Dean said after shifting his eyes away from Cas. “According to Bobby, what’s happening here is based on a legend. Happened in the late sixteen hundred’s. The chick was apparently stabbed through the stomach by villagers when she was falsely accused of cheating on her husband. Before she was stabbed she said some stuff about taking revenge on ‘those who are rightfully wrong’. And then well, black blood came out of her and she vanished.”

Cas listened in when Dean explained. “So, what we’re dealing with here is a possibly 400 year old witch who’s seeking revenge on women who actually cheated? And for some reason she bleeds black blood?” he stated.

Dean shrugged slightly and nodded. “Guess so. We just have to figure out who it is.”

++

 “She looks a little too disturbed for someone who just watered plants, don’t you think?”

 “Do we follow her?”

“She’s going in the house, c’mon.”

“Dean!”

“What?” Dean turned around.

Cas hesitated and looked around before he whispered, “Are we breaking an entry?”

Dean tilted his head and blinked, shaking his head lightly. “What _magical_  ways have you been using to hunt?”

“I don’t-”

“Let’s go,” Dean said, nudging Cas by the arm. He walked further to the back of the house and peeped through the window.

“Dean.”

“We’ll be fine Cas, trust me, I’ve done this a hundred times-“

“No, Dean. Look,” Dean heard Cas say, before his arm was grabbed, making him stumble slightly sideways.

Cas adverted his eyes to the direction of the other window. Through it Dean could see a bunch of unusual stuff gathered underneath a low chair.

Dean wore a disgusted look on his face. “What are those in the jars, spiders? Skulls of some small animal? Ugh, I hate witches.”

They quietly entered the house through the back door. Cas had nearly run into a pile of glass bottles when they sneaked in, receiving a soft glare from Dean in return.

Dean gripped his gun tight as he walked further into the house. He watched the woman from the other room chant and slide a blade against her forearm, black blood oozing out of it onto a small piece of cloth.  

 

_“Maledictus qui male egerunt,_

_Poena eorum longus et fortis,_

_Sic est voluntas…”_

 

The woman stopped her chanting and laughed. “You boys actually came,” she said in a chilling voice. She lifted her head and turned around, shaping her right hand into a fist in front of her chest.

“ _Fiat.”_

Dean was already on the ground, clutching his stomach in pain before he and Cas could exchange looks. He coughed hard and attempted to look up before making a disgruntled face, letting out an aggravated groan.

“What did you do to him?” Cas interrogated, his face full of panic. He shifted a step towards Dean before he himself got thrown against the wall.

The witch sighed, tilting her head backwards as she did so. “Sorry. Gotta kill your friend. Boss’ orders.”

Dean started to cough out blood onto the floor.

“Stop this. Let him go, or I  _will_  kill you,” Cas threatened, his body still glued to the wall by an unusual force.

The witch beamed, swaying her head slowly from side to side. “Boss can’t wait to meet you,” she said.

Cas cursed to himself. “Who’s your boss?”

The witch walked toward him, tilting her head sideways. “Oh, don’t act as if you don’t already know the answer.”

Cas thought for a moment and breathed out, “Alastair?”

“Bingo!” The witch exclaimed in a normal voice, patting Cas on the cheek. She turned away from him and walked toward an almost unconscious Dean, who coughed slightly less as his eyes started to close.

“You see, those murders- those women, they deserved it. Boss gave me a choice, kill whoever I want. Drive you both here, make it a little easy to find me. And then well, kill your friend here, because he isn’t needed-”

The witch was cut off when the cloth she bled onto set on fire. Its flames turned blue as soon as it lit up. The witch shot her head towards Cas, then to Dean, who gasped for air when he stopped coughing and bleeding.

“No,” she whispered, her eyes turning wide with fear. “No, no!”

Cas was broken free from the force. He ran up to Dean and helped him up as they both stared at the witch rise with panic. The windows of the house swung open, wind breaking in. Lights flickered and buzzed as the witch stared at her own wrists that assumingly began to hurt.

“No no no no no, please!” she pleaded, the lump in her throat obvious. Black blood oozed out of her sudden slit forearms.

Her head snapped sideways with a crack before she could scream any further.

Both Dean and Cas stood there for a few seconds, catching a few breaths to register what just happened.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Dean muttered, walking towards the witch’s body that lay lifeless on the floor.

“Do you think maybe- Alastair did this?” Cas questioned, giving a pensive look to Dean.

“Why would he want to do this to an employee?”

Cas shrugged. “She did kind of, reveal him a little easily. Maybe he didn’t want that.”

Dean stopped and stared down at the dead witch, before looking up to walk further away. “Ay, whatever- I freakin’ hate witches. Have we had lunch yet?”

“Dean, you nearly died a minute ago, do you not want to stop and think about this for a second?”

“I get it, I just survived possibly stage four, stomach cancer and there’s this whole- Alastair thing that’s up and about. But there ain’t much we can find here, unless you want to bring little miss falsely-accused over here back from the dead and interrogate her as a zombie. Or we can search the house later. Are you up for pizza? I’m up for pizza, c’mon.”

Cas let out a short sigh, rolling his eyes as he watched Dean walk out of the house. He pressed his lips together and shook his head, admitting himself in defeat as he followed behind the slightly taller man.

This was going to be an unpredictable week.

Or month.

Or year.

++

Dean surveyed the area around him in the car and looked over at the sleeping man that rode shotgun beside him. He looked content and normal when asleep, for someone who had seen a load of crap in one day. His hair had somehow fallen on his face throughout the drive, making him look younger and more innocent than he already was. Dean didn’t want to wake him up, but he had to. This was where they were to part.

“Cas,” Dean whispered.

No response.

He tried again, louder this time, with a soft nudge to the arm.

“Castiel?”

Dean guiltily watched him shift his body and flutter his eyelids open the slightest. Cas sat up in his seat and rubbed his eyes fully open.

“We’re here already?” Cas questioned, slumping back in his seat tiredly as he made a reach for his bag.

“Sorry to wake ya, didn’t want to,” Dean quietly said.

Cas showed a tired smile at him. “It’s fine. Uh, thank you. For the ride, and everything else. I’ll contact you if I- when I- …soon,” he finished, glancing at Dean a last time before turning to reach for the door handle.

“Did it work?” Dean said.

Cas turned his head, his hand loosening on the door handle. “What?”

“Getting to know me better,” Dean lazily said, as he was tired as well. He tilted his head and half smiled at Cas.

Cas formed his mouth in a straight line, smiling shyly as he looked away. “Honestly, I’m still trying to figure out who you really are.”

“Yeah? Same here, besides the fact that you’re clearly multi-talented, and smart, and funny, and—” Dean stopped and bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from saying anything further. He blushed and looked down, clearing his throat.

Cas cast his eyes at Dean with a soulful look, beaming the slightest as if he was waiting for Dean to finish talking. “I should- go. I’ll see you.”

Dean laughed nervously, looking up. “Yeah, yeah. See ya,” he said quietly. Cas grabbed hold of his bag and got out of the car before Dean realized he had left something behind.

“Oh, Cas, you left your-”

The car door shut in front of Dean, and Cas was already walking his way out. Dean sighed and grabbed the object that lay vertically against the seat.

_TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD_

_HARPER LEE_

 

Dean smiled and looked out the window. Cas was no longer in sight. He turned the cover and smirked wider when he read the post-it that stuck on the contents page.

**_Tell me what you think about it the next time i see you, which is hopefully soon?_ **

He pulled out his cell phone and typed away.

_‘Soon.’_

 


	3. A Daydream Away

_***_

_It doesn't matter when we get back_

_To doing what we do_

_'Cause right now could last forever_

_Just as long as I'm with you._

_***_

 

Cas squeezed her hand tight and as he always did, he waited and hoped for even the slightest response. Anna lay still on the hospital bed, not a single movement made. His face dropped in disappointment as he got up and later pressed his lips to her forehead.

“Wake up soon.”

He finally let go of her hand, smiling sadly as he took one last look at her before making his way out of the room. He hesitated before nodding in acknowledgement at one of the doctors who had tried to help.

He left the building and made his way to his car. He drove back to the motel he was staying at for the night, which was an hour drive away.

It was moderately cold that night in Madison, Wisconsin. When Cas got back to the motel room, he kept a couple of layers on, only removing his trench coat and hanging it by the door.

“Where’ve you been, sunshine?”

Cas whipped his head and turned to Dean who sat on a chair four feet away. “I went to visit my sister. I told you that.”

Dean laughed in an unusual way. “I mean, where’ve you been, all my life?” he asked slurrily, his eyes open at the slightest as he kept them locked at Cas.

Cas’ eyebrows furrowed as he observed Dean. He was slumped against the back of his seat, legs spread out with one arm across his waist. Cas’ eyes darted to the small table next to him, where a tall bottle and several shot glasses stood at.

“Dean. Are you… drunk?”

All Cas got was a half-smile and look up in response.

Cas shook his head and sighed angrily. “I thought we had an agreement. Dean, I haven’t touched a cigarette in weeks. You’re not supposed to- drink, not  _this_ much. Weren’t you the one who suggested we act like professionals? We’re on a  _job_  here.”

Dean frowned.

“Don’t be angry at me. I can’t have you angry at me too, sunshine,” he said, pouting his lips before he switched his glance to the bottle next to him.

Cas exhaled and rolled his eyes, grabbing the bottle in the process before Dean could even think about it.

“What is this-  _vodka_? Did you seriously think that you wouldn’t get drunk?” Cas scolded. He watched Dean drop his head down to his own neck.

Cas relaxed his shoulders and quietly sighed at the sight before him. “Why do you do this to yourself?” he whispered, lightly shaking his head.

Dean simply shrugged, looking sad and defeated for a moment before his eyes lit up.

“I know what we should do,” he said while he looked up at Cas.

“And, what’s that?” Cas questioned, folding his arms across his waist.

“Spin the bottle.”

“There are only the two of us here, Dean.”

“ _Exactly.”_

Cas let his eyes wander and slightly blushed at the thought before he remembered how hammered Dean was. “Alright- that’s enough. You won’t remember half of this in the morning. Go to bed now, or I’ll—”

“Take me there,” Dean muttered, a smirk playing hard across his face as he held out his forearm. If it wasn’t for the hiccup that followed after that, Cas could’ve sworn he was actually sober and serious about it.

Cas stared down at the hand that floated in mid-air inches away from him, before grabbing Dean by the arm not too forcefully.

Dean got up instantly, stumbling a bit before Cas stabilized him.

“You’re a real dick to work with sometimes. You owe me for this,” Cas muttered against his breath.

Dean mumbled an ‘I know’ in response.

Cas reached out for a water bottle from his bag and placed it in Dean’s hand.

“Hydrate yourself before you sleep.”

Dean ignored the bottle in his hands and shifted his eyes towards Cas. “You know, Castieelll…” his voice trailed off at Cas’ name, which he hung onto a bit too long.

“What?” Cas patiently asked as he walked, or practically dragged, Dean toward the bed.

“I think you’re a pretty hot blue eyed babe.”

Cas had nearly dropped himself  _and_ Dean to the floor then.

He couldn’t suppress the laugh that escaped his lips, his face flushed at the same time. “Wow. How many shots did you have?”

“Three.”

“Liar.”

“Plus two, times one… that equals, seven.”

 Cas sighed. “You’re gonna have one hell of a morning tomorrow,” he said as he let Dean fall back on the bed, the unopened bottle of water still in his hand.

Dean shifted his body to get comfortable, laying on his stomach with his face mushed against the pillow. Cas bit the inside of his cheek, barely taking a step away, before a hand quickly grabbed onto his.

“Dean? What are you-?”

“Stay.”

Cas let his hand stay there as he spoke firmly, “This is a small motel room. My bed is not more than five feet away. I need sleep too, Dean. I am not taking any more of your cra-”

“Please,” Dean innocently mumbled, an eye peeping open at Cas.

_Don’t. Don’t. Don’t._

“Two minutes. Drink your water.”

_Damn it._

Dean smiled into the pillow, hiding half of it as he dropped his hand to the side of the bed.

“Know why I call you sunshine all the time?”

Cas hesitated.

“Is it something I  _should_  know?” he asked, folding his arms across his waist as he leaned against the wall.

Dean chuckled lightly, slightly muffled as he pressed his face further into the pillow. “It’s cause I-” he hiccupped.

“You… what, Dean?”

“I don’t know. I just- I really just… you probably already know the answer.”

Cas mouthed a ‘what’ followed by an uncertain curse, and backed up from the wall, intending to ask Dean further on what he meant. He let it go and stepped away when Dean gave out a yawn, as there was no use interrogating a drunk Dean, at this time of the night, especially.

“Good night, Dean.”

“Night- blue eyes.”

++

The second Dean rolled over in bed and lifted his head it hit him.

“Jesus- fuck,” He groaned, his hand shooting up to his temples.

His head was throbbing, hard, as if he had a second heartbeat present in there. He lay his head back down on the pillow and grunted, recalling the blurry sight of a shot glass meeting his lips several times.

“I told you to hydrate yourself. You never listened.”

Dean whipped his head to the right to see Cas walking over to him with a glass and a plate in his hands. His eyes moved up when Cas drew nearer to him and placed the objects on the table.

“Wha-?” Dean only managed to get out, as he braved himself to sit up. “God- fucking,  _damn it_ , my head’s about to explode,” he cursed, scrunching his face as he lay his back against the headboard.

“That’s what you should have considered before you took seven shots of vodka.”

Dean sighed as he faced Cas apologetically. “Yeah, I know, I’m-” he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, we made a deal. I got no excuse, okay? It just happened and- it won’t again.”

Cas stayed quiet and looked away.

“C’mon, you’re not gonna stay mad at me forever, are you? I know you can’t,” Dean said, smiling hopefully at Cas.

Cas rolled his eyes and faced Dean with a half-suppressed smile. “Shut up. Drink, eat.” He passed Dean a full glass of water and a plate of what looked like crackers and toast.

Now that Dean noticed it, his stomach came to an uneasy sensation. He gulped down half the glass and rubbed the space between his eyes, squinting at the throbbing pain that beat continuously.

He stared at the plate and shot a questioning look at Cas. “Are honey crackers and toast supposed to help?”

“Yes. I know from experience.”

Dean huffed and sat in silence as he ate, while Cas had gone to the kitchen and returned with a water bottle.

“Aspirin. It’ll help with the nausea and headache you’re feeling. Drink, a lot,” Cas said as he refilled Dean’s glass full and later placed a round pill on the side of his plate.

The last time he had a serious hangover, Dean swore at every breath he took. Sam’s frantic voice had annoyed him to the maximum at the time, and it took nearly a day before he started to feel better. That was all years ago though, when his drinking got out of control. He never thought he’d have to face a hangover again.

Talking didn’t feel so great, but he couldn’t block Cas out just like that, after all he’d done for him. He cleared his throat and peered up at Cas, who kept his gaze locked on him.

_How are your eyes still so blue?_

 “Thanks- Cas,” he patiently smiled at the man who stood before him and shrugged in return. “Really, I- I know I screwed up. You didn’t have to do all this, but you did, so- thanks.”

Castiel walked away from Dean to the desk full of documents, turning away from him. He sighed and huffed a laugh. “Well, I guess I can tolerate your lack of thinking a little more after hearing you call someone a- ‘pretty hot blue eyed babe’.”

He probably heard it wrong, Dean thought. His head hurt, and his body felt like crap, so he was most  _definitely_  hearing things. There was no way those words came out of Cas’ mouth, but then again Dean had always wondered about the many things Cas said he thought he had clearly misheard, when he didn’t.

His face flushed red in embarrassment, mouth left agape, and the alcohol in his system probably made him look worse.

“Did I now?” He laughed nervously. He shook his head in disbelief and exhaled another laugh, rubbing the back of his neck edgily.

He swallowed hesitantly before meeting Cas’ slightly smug look on his face. “Yeah, sorry, I guess- I uh, I’m not the most sensible person when I’m in that kind of state. I didn’t say, or do anything else, weird, did I?”

Cas lowered his face to the floor, his mouth curling up the slightest bit before looking up again, shaking his head. “No, not really. You pretty much, passed out after that.”

Something about Cas’ expression made Dean think there was something else not being told, but he nodded and shrugged it off anyway. It probably wasn’t something to bother much about, especially when his entire body was drained up to that level.

It could’ve been worse.

No, scratch that. It couldn’t, because Cas was too much of a nice person to let someone feel embarrassed for long. Dean wouldn’t have let it go so easily if the same situation were to happen the other way around.

“What time is it?” Dean asked, shaking the thoughts away from his head.

“Quarter to eight. You probably need another few hours of sleep.”

Dean gulped down his last bit of water. “But- what about the case? That rugaru’s leaving town in a couple of hours, probably earlier now that he knows we’re here.”

Cas wandered his eyes to the side of the room, and shrugged slightly. “I can- burn the guy myself, I guess.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head while he pressed against the bed to get up. “No man, screw sleep, I can’t just -aah,  _damn it_!” He exclaimed, squinting at the heavy, painful throbbing at his head as he sat back down.

“You’re in no condition to fight a rugaru, Dean. It’s fine, really,” Cas assured while he picked up his duffel bag.

Dean swallowed hesitantly. He thought of any excuse he could think of, but none of them were rational enough to debate on.

“Fine. Just…” He trailed off, while Cas tilted his head to wait for a response. “Be careful,” He finished, clenching his jaw while he looked down at his hands, and then back to Cas.

Cas stood there and stared at him, lips parted the slightest before its corners lifted up when their eyes came to a meeting.

“I will. You- get some sleep,” he said, heading his way to the door.

“Be careful,” Dean repeated.

“Yes, Dean.”

“Call-”

Dean sighed, staring at the lonely room in front of him. “Call me when you’re done.”

++

Dean got up from his seat as soon as the door opened and took several steps towards Cas. He observed as the other man held his bloodied shoulder tight and cursed to himself.

“Damn it, Cas, what the hell? I thought you said you were okay!”

“I am, it’s just a minor laceration.”

Dean shook his head and walked closer to him. “Minor, my ass. Lift your hand, let me see.”

Cas rolled his eyes, shifting his gaze from Dean to the wall as he pulled the collars of a few layers aside and let his palm float above his right shoulder, revealing an open cut upon it.

Dean looked at the gruesome mark agitatedly, and tilted his head to get Cas’ focus back. He raised his eyebrows and made a hand gesture at him, waiting for a response.

“What? It’ll heal,” Cas attempted.

“Trust me buddy, you do  _not_  want to get an infection on that,” Dean said, heading for the door.

“Dean, I- where are you going?”

“Your car. To get supplies.”

Cas sighed as Dean left, shutting the door behind him. He squinted, wincing at the pain on his shoulders while he carefully sat on the bed and leaned his back against the headboard.

He stared at the blood stains on his shirt and made a disgruntled face at how unpleasant the careless rugaru’s bite looked.  

Whatever, it could’ve been worse.

Dean came into the room a couple of minutes later, his hands clutching onto a small red box with a white cross on the top of it.

“Hm, you know- this thing you own is honestly adorable. It’s tiny, but it can save lives.”

Cas raised his eyebrows at him and cracked a smile. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks that way.”

Dean glanced at him, returning a small smile before looking down. “Alright- let’s get this over with. Layers off,” he ordered, pointing to Cas’ attire.

Cas looked down on himself hesitantly and then back at Dean with a raise of the eyebrows. He exhaled, attempting to remove his trench coat with one arm only, minimising movement of his right arm.

Dean fought a smile as he watched Cas struggle. “Do you um, need help with all that?”

“No, I do not need help from you taking my-,” Cas hissed and paused in his movements as soon as he realized what he was about to say, biting the inside of his cheek when he felt his face go hot. He adverted his eyes  _away_  from Dean, who had instantly shut up and made his way to the sink.

Cas stood up as he removed the outer layers, leaving a grey t-shirt the only top he had on and threw them stubbornly at the end of the bed after having to struggle with them. He caught Dean’s gaze, and as usual, Cas had noticed, Dean quickly looked away.

“What is it?” Cas asked in a low tone, walking towards where Dean stood at the sink.

Dean shook his head, turning on the sink and waited for the right temperature of water while he washed his hands. “Nothing. Just, I don’t usually see you without all the layers. Every time I woke up in the morning you were all dressed and ready to go.”

He opened up the red box on the table and let his fingers float above it, before selectively reaching out for a washcloth. Cas leaned against the table, holding onto his shoulder while Dean dampened the washcloth as he ran it under the sink.

“How’s your head?” Cas asked, motioning forward and pulling up his sleeve as Dean gestured him to.

“Better now. The last time I didn’t recover so easily. Hold still,” Dean said. He held Cas by the arm and steadied him against the sink.

Cas looked away when the washcloth met with his torn skin, tensing up his muscles at the slight pain.

“Easy there. Just water,” Dean assured in a quiet voice.

Cas breathed in and out, relaxing his body. He stared down at Dean’s concentrated hands as they patched up his shoulder with a bandage. Dean and him were standing so close to each other, simply inches away from touching, probably the closest they’d ever stood together. If both of them looked up at the same time…

“Okay. You’re good to go,” Dean said, pressing the bandage firmly one last time before he flickered his eyes to Cas. Both pairs of eyes met before they went slightly wider at the surprise of how actually close their bodies were next to each other.

“Thanks,” Cas murmured and showed a faint smile, softening his eyes as they broke contact with Dean’s.

It probably wasn’t what he wanted, Cas thought. Professionals, he thought. Professionals. But then again, Cas thought of the things Dean said to him last night when the alcohol still ran through his system like water. He hated the mixed signals Dean gave him, but he couldn’t possibly say or do anything about it now, as much as he wanted to. They were getting closer and closer to finding Alastair, and they both knew they’d never forgive themselves if Alastair got away because of something coming in between them, good or bad.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Dean asked, keeping his eyes focused on Cas.

“No, why’d you think that?” Cas said, pulling down his sleeve as he pressed himself against the table to step away from Dean.

From the corners of his eyes, he saw Dean shrug. “I don’t know, since this morning it just feels like it. Something about- last night, maybe?”

“I told you. You passed out within a minute. Not much happened.” Cas had a habit of not meeting a person’s eyes when he lied, which gave it away most of the time.

Dean paused for a moment. “Okay then,” he said, looking away as he started to arrange the things back into the kit.

Cas walked over and sighed in pleasure as his body relaxed on the bed, letting his eyes rest as well.

“Buy me lunch,” he suddenly ordered, face remaining constant.

“What? We don’t do that.”

“You owe me. A cheeseburger sounds great.  _Bacon_ , cheeseburger, actually.” Cas smugly smiled and opened his eyes to shift them at Dean.

Dean laughed sarcastically. “Hm, so uh, the patching up isn’t enough to make up for me getting drunk? You could’ve gotten a serious infection with that thing.”

“No, it doesn’t. And I could’ve done all of that myself, anyway. I didn’t ask you to.”

“Well, you didn’t stop me,” Dean said as he eyed Cas teasingly, giving him a knowing look.

Cas stopped and thought of anything he could respond with. He looked away and shifted comfortably in bed, ignoring Dean’s comment.

“Some iced tea too, while you’re at it.”

++

They both sat in silence when Cas pulled over outside Bobby’s. Dean reached for his bag from the backseat and looked out the window.

“So, I’ll see you soon,” Cas said, smiling thinly at Dean.

Dean turned his head and nodded, returning the smile. “Yeah, soon. I’ll see ya soon. ”

He looked down at his hands hesitantly, pausing for a few seconds before looking back out of the window. Cas watched him, following his eyes.

“Not that I want you out of my car, but- people usually part ways when they say ‘see you soon’, correct?” Cas asked, tilting his head to get Dean’s attention.

Dean laughed nervously and switched his gaze to Cas, fingers fiddling against one another. “Yeah, um- I was just thinking, wondering. You should-…” he trailed off. “Why don’t you come inside for a while? Have a drink. Watch a movie, maybe.”

Cas’ mouth curled upwards as he looked down and thought about it for a moment.

He lifted his head in response before Dean started to ramble, “But hey- if you’re not that kind of guy, which I sincerely doubt you aren’t, but I don’t know, you could be, I was just suggesting-”

“Dean.”

Dean stopped and shot his head towards Cas, biting the side of his lower lip hesitantly with a hopeful look on his face.

“I was just gonna say… I’d like that,” Cas finished with a laugh.

Dean’s shoulders dropped as he laughed in slight embarrassment, followed by a sigh of relief.

“Alright then. Let’s go.”

++

Sam held a can in his hands, offering it to Dean. Dean stared at it and then momentarily moved his eyes to Cas, who sat on the couch while he used his phone.

“Nah, I’m good,” Dean said.

Sam looked at him with a raise of the eyebrows. “ _You’re_  not having a casual beer for a movie?”

Dean shrugged and nodded. “I uh- just had one. I’m full,” he said. He turned his head away, ignoring Sam’s questioning look before walking over to the television set.

He shuffled through a bunch of DVDs in his hands and smiled when he spotted one. He turned halfway at Cas and held out the certain movie for him to see.

“Ay, found your favourite. You in the mood to watch a silent creepy ass vamp?”

Cas looked up and observed the cover, a grin appearing on his face. “Sure.”

“Hm, you’re not scared?” Dean teased and put the DVD in, before taking a seat next to Cas on the couch.

“I’ve beheaded their species several times, do you honestly think I’d be scared of a movie?” Cas scoffed.

Dean snickered and turned to Sam who smiled smugly at them. He leaned against his single crutch as he held a beer out to Cas, offering it. “Beer?”

Cas flickered his eyes to Dean’s hands, noticing the absence of a drink in them. He turned his eyes back to Sam and shook his head. “I’m good actually, thanks.”

He felt Dean’s eyes on him, and in the one second he looked back, a small smile was present on both their faces.

Sam beamed at the sight, adverting his eyes from Dean, to Cas, and then to the both of them who sat far too close on a long couch.

He cleared his throat, “Know what, I just remembered; Bobby needs my help in the yard. You guys go ahead and just- enjoy the movie,” he said and walked past them, ignoring the suspicious look on Dean’s face.

“Right, because you’ll sure get  _hell_ of a lot work done with a broken leg!” Dean sneered, turning his head to face Sam.

Sam’s face looked surprised and offended at the same time, but he smiled it off anyway, sheepishly. “I am more useful than you think,” he defended as he continued to pace. “There you go. Fresh from the microwave,” he added, placing a bucket of popcorn as he came back not half a minute later.

Dean eyed him questioningly and got a raise of the eyebrows in response, followed by an advert of the eyes to Cas, who sat silently as he watched the opening of Nosferatu, focused on the screen. Dean shook his head unnoticeably at Sam, who replied with a nod.

Dean paused. He rolled his eyes at him and bit the inside of his cheek, shrugging slightly. Sam shot him a knowing look.

Before they could further communicate silently, Sam turned away and made his way out of the room, while Dean had somehow managed to make throwing a popcorn in Sam’s direction look accidental. He turned back to the screen and held the popcorn between him and Cas.

Halfway throughout the silent movie Dean asked the necessary questions that Cas willingly answered. There were times when their knees touched, or when their hands headed for the popcorn at the same time, or when Cas had happened to sit back against the couch the moment Dean’s arm hung around the same place.

It didn’t feel awkward or embarrassing when little incidents like that happened for them; they chose to simply go with it instead.

Dean felt a sore in his mouth as he rolled his tongue inside it. He grabbed his empty glass and got up from the couch.

“Water refill?” he offered, staring down at Cas who still concentrated on the movie.

Cas handed him the glass in his own hands and momentarily looked up at Dean. “Yeah, please, thanks.”

Dean willingly took the glass and did a quick refill in the kitchen before peeping a look at Cas. An intense, creepy scene played on the television, and Dean had watched as Cas backed himself against the couch with his hands on his chin.

Dean smiled and bit his lip, quietly pacing to the back of where Cas sat. He didn’t get too close, because even the slightest breath could give him away. He waited for the silent scene to get creepier, finding the right moment of Nosferatu standing intimidatingly by the door before he let out a single word.

“ _Nosferatu!_ ”

Dean threw his head back, laughing as he succeeded to make Cas jump in his seat. “God- damn it,  _Dean_!” Cas exclaimed, mumbling a few unrecognizable curses after that.

He sighed in annoyance and shook his head as Dean continued to snicker behind him. “And you said you weren’t scared,” Dean teased knowingly before making his way back to the couch, offering the glass of water in his hand to Cas.

Cas grabbed it and squinted his eyes. “If I wasn’t a nice person, I’d splash this in your face right now.”

“Too bad you’re a nice person then,” Dean said as he smiled, sitting back on the couch.

Cas rolled his eyes, looking away as he failed to keep a grin in. He grabbed a couple pieces of popcorn from the bucket and forcefully threw them in Dean’s direction.

“Dick,” he muttered.

“What are you, five?”

“I should be asking you the same.”

Dean found himself paying more attention to Cas rather than the movie after that.

++

By the time the movie ended, Cas had the back of his head lying against Dean’s arm on the couch with his eyes shut. He’d dozed off about half an hour before, and Dean didn’t mind the soft tickles Cas’ hair had landed on his arm.

What he did mind was Sam walking in and giving him a knowing look.

“So. I see you’re done with the movie, and…” Sam trailed off. He glanced at Cas for a moment and gestured at him with his head as he took a seat in one of the chairs.

Dean’s eyelids lowered halfway. “What?” he sneered.

Sam shrugged and looked down on the paper he was reading, clearing his throat lightly as a small smile appeared on his face.

Before he could question it, Dean felt Cas’ head shift closer. Cas’ body had actually leaned towards Dean by then, his head resting near Dean’s shoulder. Dean adverted his eyes to him, and then to Sam.

“What do I do?” he mouthed.

Sam smirked. “Just- move and put your arm down. It won’t be that noticeable.”

Dean bit his tongue as he carefully lifted his stretched arm on the couch and put it down by his side, his hand accidentally brushing slightly against Cas’ fingers. He stared down at the two hands next to each other and smiled at the sleeping face next to him.

Cas sunk his face deeper into the cushions comfortably, his face content as ever. Dean continued to watch his features as he sneaked a slide of his pinky against Cas’ fingernail. His face changed when he actually felt the weight of Cas’ head drop on his shoulder.

“Well, that’s great. Now I can’t move,” Dean whispered, turning his head to Sam.

“Just let him stay there.”

“For how long?”

“Till he wakes up, duh.”

“But I don’t want him to freak out about it when he wakes up, he’s—”

“Are you guys into each other?”

Dean paused. He wandered his eyes around the room and shook his head. “No.”

Sam nodded and said quietly, “Hm, right. So you two just happened to sit so close on a three-seated couch, and look at each other like you’re about to—”

“Damn it, Sam, he could be listening. So shut your cakehole, will you?” Dean hissed.

Sam raised his hands in surrender and focused his eyes back to the paper.

Dean sighed and let his head sink into the cushions as he rested his eyes.

“Seriously? I swear I could take a picture right now.”

He peeped an eye open at his brother. “You do that, and you’re a man with a broken leg  _and_  nose,” he quietly threatened before shutting both his eyes back.

Dean cursed in his mind when he heard Sam’s mischievous laugh followed by the shutter of a camera phone.

He heard and felt Cas wake up ten minutes later, the slight weight on his shoulder gone.

“Dean.”

Dean continued to pretend sleeping, his eyelids making little movement as possible while his chest rose and fell at an arranged rhythm. Sam wasn’t there anymore, he could tell by the shuffling of footsteps he heard earlier and the absence of newspaper pages flipping.

He felt Cas lean forward on the couch, followed by a vibrating sensation next to him. Cas sighed in aggravation as he picked up the ringing phone.

“Hello?”

 A muffled, snarky voice was heard on the other end, and it didn’t sound like any usual greeting.

“Well, good evening to you too, Gabriel,” Cas started.

It probably wasn’t right, listening in to his conversations like this, Dean thought. It was definitely his queue to ‘wake up’ now.

“What are you talking about? We haven’t seen each other in— where are you?” Cas snapped quietly. “I asked you first. –…Canada? What in God’s name are you out of the country for?” he fumed as he got up from the couch and stormed to the kitchen.

Dean opened his eyes and sat up, curiously wondering who Gabriel was.

“Gabriel, I am not driving all the way to Winnipeg to- I just handled a case! –…Yes, of course I understand how urgent it is, I can see that you’re calling me. Look- Fargo, North Dakota. I have a place there. –…Take the bus!”

Dean looked up as Cas came pacing quickly back into the room, shaking his head in annoyance at his phone. Cas paused in his tracks when he saw Dean and kept his phone away.

“Did I wake you?” he innocently asked.

Dean shook his head lightly. “Uh, it’s fine, I wasn’t really-… are you okay? Who was that?”

Cas sighed. “My brother. Gabriel,” he said, rubbing the back of his head as he took a seat on the arm of the couch.

“Your brother, as in, the brother you hate talking about?”

Cas nodded. “He’s asking to meet up, says it’s urgent. Now, I have another three hours to drive.”

“When exactly was the last time you spoke to him before this?” Dean asked.

Cas shrugged and counted in his head.

“Two weeks ago. Before that, a year and two months, maybe.”

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh. So uh, I guess you’re taking off then,” he said, smiling thinly at Cas.

He got a nod in return and they both made their way out of the house.

“Cas, do me a favour?  _Yourself_  a favour,” said Dean. Cas moved his glance to him and tilted his head questioningly, waiting for Dean to continue.

Dean sighed. “You’ve done a lot this week. For me, for the case. So, take a break. Seriously, it’s one of the two reasons I invited you in. I know we’re getting close on ganking Alastair but, I’m just saying, don’t lose your head over it, ‘right?”

Cas stared back at him in silence as the corners of his mouth met his cheeks. “This is the first time I’m hearing such reassuring words from you. Thank you, Dean.”

“Yeah, shut up. Get out of here,” Dean said with a breathily laugh.

“What was the other reason, you invited me in?”

“I don’t need to answer that, you dork. Go.”

Dean tapped Cas’ shoulder and gave one last smiling glance at him. He watched him take off and then went back inside, as to no surprise, Sam was back in the living room.

“Wow. Still smiling from cheek to cheek all the way back,” Sam teased.

Dean’s smile half-wiped away from his face. “Okay, go. You got one minute, ask whatever crap’s on your mind.”

“You’re into him.”

“That’s not a question, Sammy.”

“Are you?”

Dean turned to him and paused as he thought of words to say.

“I mean, he’s-”

“I knew it!”

“Dude, I didn’t even say anything yet!”

Sam smugly smiled up at Dean and waited, tilting his head.

Dean crossed his arms across his waist and looked anywhere but at Sam.

“Yeah, maybe,” he mumbled.

“Maybe?”

Dean shrugged. “It’s- complicated. I’m not even entirely sure if he swings that way.”

Sam lowered his eyes and shook his head. “Either you’re lying, or you’re really stupid.”

“What? Pretty sure he’s been with a girl before, he’s mentioned them.”

“How is that even— you’ve been with a few yourself! And, maybe he- swings  _both_  ways, too.”

“Wow Sam, ain’t that a wonderful way to put it. And yeah, fine, of course the dude’s got a little thing for me. But I mean— you know me, I’m not an expert at healthy relationships. I don’t exactly have great contact with people I’ve been with, past tense.”

He continued as Sam nodded through the conversation. “Cas and I; we’re great as friends, and we make one hell of a team. I just—”

Dean hesitated as he thought about what he was saying, and what he was about to say.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to ruin somethin’ like that.”

++

“Wow, you look like hell.”

“Hello, Gabriel.”

“Hey.”

Cas pushed his way aside as he entered the place. He looked around at the familiar, grey, atmosphere and turned to face the man standing at his doorway.

“How’d you get in?”

“Really, you’re asking  _me_  that? No offense but, not the best security system you’ve got here,” Gabriel said, shutting the door behind him as he paced a few steps forward.

Cas sighed as he tested out the water and electricity in the house, which seemed to only partially work.

“What’cha hunt to get that shoulder?” Gabriel asked.

“Rugaru.”

“With who, Dean Winchester?”

Cas looked up at the name and eyed Gabriel suspiciously while he paused for several moments.

“How do you…”

“Doesn’t matter, I have my sources. Out of all the hunters out there, you decide to work with the  _Ken_ doll, aka Mr-Do-What-Daddy-Says?” Gabriel simply scoffed.

“What is that supposed— don’t call him that.”

“What-”

“Don’t… call him that,” Cas defended. He crossed his arms against his waist and looked at the floor, avoiding Gabriel’s questioning gaze.

“Holy fish on a stick. Seriously?” Gabriel said, rolling his eyes to the back of his head.

Cas shook his head and rubbed his neck as he sat himself on a chair. “Whatever you’re thinking-”

“It’s no wonder you seem happier than usual. You like him,” Gabriel concluded, smiling knowingly at Cas.

“Really? I could’ve sworn you said I looked like hell a minute ago,” Cas said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Gabriel quirked his eyebrows. “Hm, you’re talking different too. I don’t suppose, you’re starting to talk like  _him_ , are you?”

“I don’t—”

Pause. Gabriel raised his eyebrows as he waited.

“This is not—”

Another pause.

“You didn’t ask to meet up for some casual chat about Dean Winchester. You said it was urgent. We both drove three hours here, so stop pretending like we have plenty of ‘catching up’ to do, and get on with it,” Cas firmly said.

Gabriel eyed him before letting out a short sigh of annoyance.

“Didn’t think of you as the defensive type,” he said. His hand searched his breast pocket before it slipped out a small folded piece of paper. He slid it across the table between them.

“What’s this?” Cas asked as he unfolded the small piece in his hand.

On the paper wrote an unfamiliar address in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

“That my brother, is where, the demon Alastair has been staying at.”

Cas’ eyes widened. “How do you-”

“Sources. I know everything,” Gabriel interrupted. “Now, what are you gonna do about this?” he asked.

“Damn it Gabriel, quit keeping things—”

Gabriel snapped his fingers once.

“Focus.”

Cas irritatedly shook his head and rolled his eyes. “We go there. Follow a plan. Exorcise the demon.”

Gabriel shrugged. “I don’t exactly know who you mean by  _we_ , though.”

“You, me, Dean. I can’t keep this information from him, he’s in this too,” Cas said, eyes scanning over the address written on the paper.

“Yeah, but thing is; I’m not going with you.”

Cas looked up. “What? Look, if this is about Dean, he’s not what—”

“I can’t go. I would, but—” Gabriel paused, lowering his eyes to the floor. “I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Cas bitterly laughed. “You can’t. That’s- I don’t even know what to say anymore. After everything that’s happened, once again, you just  _can’t_.”

“Cas, listen-”

“I shouldn’t even ask anymore, ‘cause it’s always been that way, hasn’t it? I can’t ever, get a straight, truthful answer from you even at a time like this-”

“I go, you die!” Gabriel exclaimed. His shoulders rose and fell as he breathed, steadying his heartbeat.

Cas quirked his eyebrows and stayed silent. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Gabriel,  _what_  did you do? What, or  _who_  exactly are your sources?” Cas demanded, looking straight into his brother’s eyes.

“I just- it’s not anything to worry about, okay? But if I go, you die.  _Anna_  dies. Do you really want to take that risk?” Gabriel lowered his voice.

Cas searched his brother’s eyes for answers as he stayed quiet.

“What have you done?” he whispered.

“I promise, I’ll tell you everything, but only  _after_  you deal with Alastair.”

“Really? Because the last time you promised me something, I didn’t end so happy,” Cas said, meeting his brother’s guilty look. “And don’t talk like ‘dealing’ with Alastair would be easy and non-life threatening, exorcising isn’t-”

“You’re not gonna exorcise Alastair. You’re going to kill him,” Gabriel said. He pulled out an unordinary looking knife from his inner jacket pocket and handed it to Castiel.

“With this.”

Cas pored his eyes on the weapon and took it in his own hand. “What is this, some knife dipped in demonic killing acid?”

“Sort of, more or less. It’ll work.” Gabriel got up and walked toward the door.

“So what, you just hand me this, expecting me to understand completely and get going?”

“I don’t suppose you want me here, answering your questions or not. I’ve got things to do, have fun with the Winchester,” Gabriel replied.

Cas waited and swallowed whatever he wanted to say, knowing he wouldn’t get anything understood or answered anyway. Gabriel waved and smiled thinly at Cas, before reaching out for the door knob. He turned to face his brother one last time.

“Whatever you do… don’t die.”

Cas nodded and peered up at him as he replied, “You too.”

And with that, Gabriel left.

Cas slid his fingers across the blade in his hands, wondering how Gabriel could have gotten hold of something so unordinary. He shook his assumptions in his head away and reached for the phone in his pocket to inform Dean about the situation, but it looked like Dean had something to say himself.

**_1 New Message – Dean_ **

_‘I forgot to say. Next time, a movie with a little less creep?’_

Cas blushed and smiled at his phone as he thought of what to reply to him, after all Gabriel had said.

_‘Next time, huh?’_

 

 


	4. The Scientist

_***_

_I was just guessing at numbers and figures,_  
_Pulling the puzzles apart._  
_Questions of science, science and progress,_  
_Do not speak as loud as my heart._

 _And tell me you love me, come back and haunt me_  
_Oh when I rush to the start_  
_Running in circles, chasing up tails_  
_Coming back as we are_

_***_

 

Dean came back with two beers before he observed as the other man cast his eyes upon the sky full of stars. He sat next to him on the padded grass and followed Cas’ eyes, which still managed to gleam at a time as dark as this.

“So, what are we doing here?” Dean asked, placing a can of beer between them as he held one of his own in his other hand.

“High chance of dying tomorrow, so. Might as well enjoy the stars one last time,” Cas said. He looked down at the beer between them and took a sip.

Dean huffed. “Don’t be so negative. I’m not letting you die tomorrow,” he said.

He moved his eyes to Cas without turning his head, and watched a small smile appear on his face. It was silent for a while. They continued watching the sky and taking a sip every now and then, until Cas breathed out a laugh.

“What?” Dean asked, quirking his eyebrows in confusion.

Cas shook his head. “Nothing, just —  remembering a few things. When I was a kid, for a while, I uh…” he trailed off. He looked down and bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing.

“I wanted to be an astronaut,” he finished, smiling and blushing in embarrassment.

Dean laughed as he found himself grinning from cheek to cheek. “Really?”

Cas nodded. “Yeah. Always wanted to see what’s out there. Go to the moon.”

“The moon?”

“And Mars. Gabriel- used to uh, tell me aliens were real and that they were going to roam the Earth looking for me because they were my real parents. And that made me question my dad on whether I was adopted,” Cas rambled on, finishing it with a laugh.

Dean threw his head back, laughing as he nearly spit out his beer.

“That’s not all, actually. When my dad said I _wasn’t_ adopted, I refused to believe him. I told him to prove it to me that aliens weren’t my real parents.”

“Did he try to?”

“That’s the best part. He told me to write a letter addressed to ‘Castiel’s alien parents’, and if nobody replied, then it meant that they weren’t real. For about a week, Gabriel had me believing my real parents were aliens who actually wrote back. I tried to convince Anna, too, but she was way too smart to believe Gabriel’s stories,” Cas finished off with a smile.

Dean laughed lightly as he listened in. It almost hurt to hear Cas talk about his siblings, to know there was a period of time when Cas and his family were actually happy together.

“So, for how long were you into all that space stuff?” Dean asked.

Cas beamed and scratched the back of his neck, innocently looking at Dean. He paused for several moments before finally giving in.

“Masters Degree in Astronomy.”

Dean raised his eyebrows at the words he didn’t hear so often and looked at Cas in awe. “You’re joking.”

Cas shrugged. “Go on, tell me how completely pointless it is to go for a course like that.”

Dean shook his head. “No, no. Hell, I mean- astronomy, Cas.  _Astronomy!_  It’s pretty damn awesome, if you ask me.”

“Really?” Cas’ mouth formed into a small, grateful smile. Dean couldn’t help but stare for a while at how happy he looked like that.

“Yeah, really. You could- you could be somebody, you know? You still carry all that space stuff in your head?” Dean said, his expression still half-filled with awe.

Cas nodded shyly. “Pretty much, yeah. Big universe this is,” he said, catching Dean’s gaze for a few moments.

He blushed and broke the eye contact by looking down at his beer as he continued, “And uh, what about you?” he asked.

“Me? C’mon, I ain’t got a Masters like you. Didn’t even finish high school,” Dean said as he shrugged.

“But you’re still one hell of a smart man, Dean. A person’s intelligence isn’t defined by their grades or how far they go to pursue an education. I’ve seen you, you know your stuff. There has to be  _something_ you like doing when you’re not hunting,” Cas said.

Dean thought about the one thing on his mind that stuck there for a while. “Fine. When we were kids, Sammy broke his favourite toy, some dog robot thing that was a Christmas present from Bobby. I think he dropped it from the top floor and the whole thing just broke, springs everywhere.”

He noticed Cas listening in, focusing his eyes onto his while he talked.

“And of course, Sam, who was four years old at the time, he wouldn’t stop crying. He was hell of a lot worried about Bobby being mad at him, as much as I tried to convince him Bobby wasn’t like Dad. Literally, all he did for an hour was cry on the floor next to that broken robot dog,” he said with a laugh at the last sentence.

Cas smiled as Dean continued on. “So me, being the great, yet annoyed, big brother; I put that thing back together. Found a bunch of tools, found a bunch of books, did what I saw in movies, and I actually managed to fix three quarters of it. In fact, I made that annoying, barking thing more tolerable to live with. Didn’t cry every time it needed something.”

“You’re still talking about the robot dog, right?” Cas asked teasingly.

“Nope, all Sam,” Dean joked and laughed along with Cas. “But yeah, from then on, I liked to fix, make things. I made my own metal detector when I was twelve. Built a skateboard for Sam for his tenth birthday. And hey, I fix my own car. Stuff like that.”

He turned his head to Cas, who had been staring at him the whole time.

“That’s- amazing, Dean,” Cas said.

"It's nothing, I learned a lot of that from my dad anyways," Dean murmured.

Cas shrugged. "No offence, but it seems like you learned almost everything yourself growing up. Certain things that young kids don't, or _shouldn't_  have the strength for. I'm saying- you're one of a kind, Dean."

Dean huffed a laugh, momentarily ducking his head to hide a blush, but it was dark anyway. “To be honest, nobody's ever told me that before.”

“And no one’s ever told me astronomy was _‘awesome’_ ,” Cas muttered with a grin.

The both of them stared longer at each other, eyes momentarily flickering between the other person’s lips and eyes. Dean knew, that if he didn’t turn away now, that’d be it. It’d give him away that easily. His palms were pressed down onto the padded grass as one of them sat inches away from Cas’ own hand.

The thumping heartbeat in his chest made every single breath heavy as he tried to control it. Cas searched his eyes in wonder, and Dean felt like he could read his mind if he tried hard enough.

He was sure Cas had a clue of what he was thinking at the moment, as Cas had responded by slightly leaning his body in.

It seemed so  _right_ , Dean thought. He wanted it, badly. So badly it actually hurt, because within a second or two he’d begin to realize what he was doing, and start thinking about the consequences that would come if it happened.

The consequences of getting too close.

And so the thoughts took over his actions;

Dean sucked in a breath and froze.

Cas was still a safe distance away, but the amount of hurt and confusion was so visibly written all over his face, Dean felt his heart sink.

Dean dropped his head down and sighed almost silently, shaking his head in disappointment at himself as he couldn’t bare to meet Cas’ face when he stuttered out,

“C- Cas, I—”

“It’s fine.”

“No, Cas, it’s-”

“I said it’s fine,” Cas hissed. He ignored Dean’s attempts to explain himself as he started to stand up from the ground. “I understand. Perfectly.”

And with that, Cas stormed off.

Dean wrapped his hands around his head, thinking about what just happened, and what could have. He stayed glued to where he was sitting on the grass. There was no point in chasing after Cas, because he himself hadn’t known what really happened or had anything right to say. He threw a hard punch at the grass beneath him and cursed at the pain. He inhaled deeply as he rubbed the bruises on his knuckles, and chugged down the rest of the can of beer.

“Well look at that, Dean, this might be the longest you’ve gone without ruining it,” he said to himself.

He buried his head in his hands, massaging the centre between his eyes as he sighed angrily.

“So fucking close.”

So close to not screwing up.

++

“Cas? You up?” Dean’s whisper filled the room.

Cas continued to breathe like any normal sleeping person would. He popped open one eye, his back still faced towards Dean. He heard Dean sigh and fall back to the bed, tossing and turning around the bed to feel comfortable.

“Awake or not— Cas, I… I can’t even make out half of the things going through my mind right now. All I can say is, I’m sorry I freaked. I wasn’t supposed to, really.”

Cas frowned into the pillow and shifted his body a bit, not making any sound besides the short breaths that went in and out of his chest.

“Cas?” Dean whispered again, a slight hint of hope in his tone.

Castiel bit his lip and rolled his eyes, catching Dean by surprise as he turned around in his bed, sitting up a little.

He stressed eyes at Dean. “We can forget it ever happened. It’s late, and we’ve got a demon to kill tomorrow, so get some sleep.”

He turned in bed again before he could catch Dean’s reaction and held his pillow tighter.

They didn’t start the next day with talking and getting breakfast like they normally did.

++

“So, this is it? Seems pretty- well, too typical for a demon,” Dean said, looking out the window of the Impala.

Cas looked out as well. “This is the address.”

Dean nodded slowly and watched as Cas checked his weapons. He took a deep breath and got out of the car, Cas following his lead.

Dean squinted into the binoculars, scanning the area for a few moments.

“If there are any demons or people in there, they’re definitely in hiding. Do they know we’re here?” Dean wondered aloud.

Cas shook his head. “I don’t know. But we have to move, quick.”

Dean led the way to the back door of the grey house. They nodded at each other before going separate paths, eyes making contact one last time.

The house was empty, so far. There weren’t any signs indicating anyone’s presence, as it was barely a home to begin with. Dean quietly walked his way through a corridor, turning his head at every room with four walls he passed.

_‘Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars,_

_Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars’_

Dean shot his head at the direction of where the music came from. He hardened his face, readying his weapons as he took several steps along the corridor. Frank Sinatra continued to play on what seemed like a record player from just a few rooms away from Dean.

_‘In other words, hold my hand,_

_In other words, baby, kiss me.’_

Dean furrowed his brows at the song choice and continued to walk, finally getting to a place where the music wasn’t so muffled anymore.

Cas stood in front of Dean, his back faced towards the other man. He lifted the arm of the turntable in front of him and sighed as the music stopped. The record continued to slowly turn.

Dean wore a look of confusion on his face as Cas mimicked its movements, smiling sadistically as his eyes met Dean’s.

He laughed. “He’d like that, wouldn’t he? Hi, Dean.”

“Uh, you okay?”

“Pretty good. Well Castiel, I can’t figure out who’d enjoy this more. Me, you, or Dean?”

Dean shook his head in confusion and darted his eyes towards Cas’ neck, noticing the absence of a certain silver pendant that usually wrapped around it.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean whispered. He grabbed hold of his knife, aiming it at Cas’ direction.

And that’s when Castiel’s blue eyes turned full on black.

“That’s a little rude, Dean. What are you gonna do with that?” the demon sneered.

Dean clenched his jaw, his hand gripping tight on the knife. “Get out of him, or I swear I’ll-”

“What? Kill me?” the demon shrugged, making Cas look barely recognizable with his facial expressions. “Please, you wouldn’t dare lay a finger. Not on this body, anyways.”

Dean inhaled deeply and started to pace, hiding the hand that quietly reached into his jacket.

“Yeah? Well, unfortunately for you, there are things that can’t hurt him, that can hurt you like a bitch,” he hissed. He threw the holy water at the demon, followed by a shot of a salt round.

Dean ran, hearing the demon scream in Cas’ voice at the agony.

++

Dean grunted in pain as soon as his back hit the wall. He coughed and crawled a few feet away as he slowly got up from the ground, only for his neck to meet with Cas’ hand.

“This. This is fun, isn’t it Dean? Cas is having just as much fun as I am,” the demon fumed, smiling maniacally.

Dean gasped as he choked for air, attempting to free himself from Cas’ hand. He managed to suck in a breath, before muttering out,

“Sorry, Cas.”

Dean kneed the other man in the gut and slid the demon knife against Cas’ skin, pushing him at least a metre away at the same time.

The demon bellowed, looking up at Dean with furious eyes. “What the hell is that?”

Dean smirked, wiping off the little cut he got himself on the side of his face.

“Congrats. Seems like your species can actually die too, now.”

The demon glared at Dean, his eyes turning completely dark. He attempted to jump at Dean to have a go at him again, but was stopped halfway, sending him back to his original position.

He looked around in confusion and then down at his feet. Panic was written all over Cas’ face as the demon’s eyes scanned upon the devil’s trap he was centred in.

Dean laughed bitterly. “Didn’t think you’d fall for that one so easily.”

Cas’ face hardened. “I can see whatever’s in his mind. He’s angry.”

_“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,_

_omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii-”_

“How long do you think I’ve been in him, hm? Did you really think all those  _moments_  you’ve had with him were real? Do you think he, or  _I_  was hurt by what happened last night?” the demon thundered, continuing to twitch as Dean went on.

_“Omnis legio, et secta diabolica,  
Ergo draco maledicte et sectio-”_

The demon scoffed. “Poor you. You actually think he feels the same way. All it takes is acting, Dean, really-”

 _“Ergo draco maledicte et legio secta diabolica  
Ut Ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte, te rogámus,” _ Dean smiled, watching the demon slowly cough out its own smoke. Dean could barely catch what the demon was up to before he yelled out the last two words.

_“Audi nos!”_

There was a bloodcurdling scream.

Black smoke bolted out of Cas’ mouth, and eventually sunk to the floor, dissolving into the fiery pits of hell. Dean’s chest rose and fell as he panted for air, watching the scene before him to register what had just happened.

Dean paced over quickly as Cas fell unconscious to the ground.

“Hey, hey. Cas?” Dean called out.

Cas’ head lay still on Dean’s knee as Dean turned him around.

Dean lightly shook him and patted his face, muttering, “Hey c’mon, damn it. Cas!”

Relief washed over Dean when Cas popped his eyes open, sucking in a breath. He sat up and winced at the pain on his right arm, holding it tightly as he leaned into Dean.

Dean flickered his eyes to the other man’s arm, which bled through his jacket, leaving a growing stain on it.

“Crap. Son of a bitch,” he murmured. He got out a cloth from his jeans pocket and wrapped it tightly around Cas’ bleeding arm.

“You didn’t do that,” Cas said, breaths still heavy as he put pressure onto his wound.

“Well it’s probably freakin’ deep, Cas, we gotta go.” Dean helped Cas up and held him as they walked out.

“Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna pass out.”

++

Castiel fluttered his eyes open and wiped his face, looking at his close surroundings. He was covered in white sheets in a hospital bed, his arm properly wrapped and positioned.

“Evenin’, sunshine.”

His head whipped up towards the door, where Dean stood leaning against the door frame.

Dean smiled and walked toward him. “Why do I feel like we’ve been here before?” he jokingly asked.

Thoughts surrounded Cas’ mind when he saw Dean, having all sorts of emotions written over his face.

“I almost killed you,” he mumbled out, glowering up at Dean.

Dean’s face changed. “It wasn’t you,-”

“I can’t believe I would let something so  _stupid_  happen,-”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I should’ve  _known,_  damn it, I should’ve-”

“Cas!” Dean exclaimed.

Cas paused and shook his head as he slumped back against the bed.

Dean sighed. “Look- you’re definitely not in any condition to go on. Let’s just, take a break, okay? From the whole Alastair thing, and everything else, really. ”

Cas swallowed hesitantly. “Are you saying we should go our separate ways?”

“I didn’t- it’s not like I want to. But it’s the best, for now. As soon as you get yourself together and you’re ready, you give me a call,” Dean said.

Cas nodded as he thought about it. “Fine. I guess I need some space.”

“Good. That’s, good. So…” he trailed off and pointed at the door, looking at Cas sadly. “My queue to go.”

Cas looked at Dean hesitantly and stayed quiet. Dean nodded and turned on his heel, before Cas hurried the urge to grab his hand.

“That demon lied. I wasn’t possessed for that long but… I remember everything. What the demon said about me, it wasn’t true. It was all me when…,” Cas trailed off softly.

Dean looked down on him, his shoulders dropping in slight relief as he smiled gratefully enough to see. Cas’ heart nearly jumped out of his chest when Dean leaned down.

Dean’s lips met the top of his forehead, his hand softly stroking against the side of Cas’ face. Cas held in his sigh and looked at his hands as Dean pulled away, already taking a step backwards.

“I’ll see ya.”

 

* * *

 

It’d been weeks since Dean last saw Castiel at the hospital.

Dean continued to hunt alone for the first week after, and later he joined in with Sam, who finally had his leg recovered.

Cas hadn’t called, or texted, at all.

And it made Dean act a little different.

Dean constantly hurried to the phone when it rang, only to be slightly disappointed by the words on the screen. He hunted differently, from the last time he hunted with Sam.

Sam could so easily tell.

Dean never mentioned anything about it, but Sam knew.

And Dean knew that Sam knew.

The way Dean’s eyes fell when he picked up the phone, the sudden mood change whenever even normal everyday things like a cheeseburger or the moon were brought up on a case, it was all a little too obvious.

But that day it was different.

**Bzz, bzz.**

**_1 Voicemail - Unknown_ **

Dean widened his eyes at the screen and played the voicemail straight away, ignoring Sam’s short glances at him.

_“Dean. Hey, I just- uh, wanted to let you know I’m absolutely fine. My arm, it’s fine too.”_

_“I’m sorry it took this long, but I- I’ll explain it later …I—”_

Dean furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he stared at the phone. “What? Damn it Cas, you what?”

He shook his head in frustration and turned to Sam, eyes then lit up.

“You still know how to trace a number?” Dean asked, crossing his arms.

Sam nodded. “I- guess, but Dean-”

“Good. Find out where it is,” Dean firmly said, throwing the phone in Sam’s direction.

Sam caught it and slightly jumped, shocked by the sudden motive. He rolled his eyes at his brother and went to the other room to return with his laptop.

Dean paced back and forth as Sam worked for a few minutes.

“Would you quit doing that? It’s distracting,” Sam scoffed.

Dean paused in his tracks and rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to Sam.

“Hey- I think I got something.”

Dean turned his head to the laptop screen and hovered forward. “What? You know where he is?”

“Yeah, Indianapolis. Pen, paper,” Sam ordered.

Dean passed them to him willingly and waited as Sam wrote an address down. “This is where he last called, that’s all I can find-”

“Thanks,” Dean said as he snatched the small paper from Sam’s hands.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna go look for him. I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” Dean said, picking up his jacket.

“Is he in trouble? Because if he is, you could use some help-”

“I don’t know, but he could be. And I’m going. Alone,” Dean responded in a firm tone. He shot a look at Sam, who shook his head at Dean’s words. “What now?” Dean asked, gesturing his hands at his brother.

“I’m just- worried.”

“About what?”

“You! You’ve been acting weird. Did- something actually happen between you two?” Sam asked, the concern in his voice showing.

“Oh, besides the uh, demonic possession?” Dean started, pacing backwards towards the door. “No, nothing happened.”

Nothing at all.

++

“I don’t get it. Why don’t you just kill me and go suck up to your leader?”

The demon’s eyes went black. “Now, where’s the fun in that? Besides, boss says he’d rather explain it himself anyway.”

Cas scoffed, “So what, he  _doesn’t_  want me dead?”

The demon smiled. “Oh honey, he wants you more than that,” she said as she circled around him.

“Then why am I here? Why am I being tied up against my own will, if you’re not going to kill me?” Cas asked.

“So many questions. A girl doesn’t like questions, Castiel. Of course, you wouldn’t know that,” the demon added, tapping her hand over her mouth in a narcissistic manner.

Cas rolled his eyes. He continued to secretly unknot the wire around his wrists. He was good with knots, and this time, he freed himself.

He kept the wire wrapped around his wrists still, to make it look like he was still trapped. “There has to be some reason. Are you waiting for someone?”

The demon stayed quiet as she turned her back to him.

“Unless… you don’t know either,” Cas resulted. “You’re one of his most loyal employees. You’d do whatever he tells you to do, without a question. But you do know a few things, maybe even what Alastair is really up to-”

The demon turned back and slapped Cas across the face. “ _Don’t_  say his name, human.”

Cas slightly winced at the burning sensation on his face and inhaled deeply before he threw the wire at the floor beneath him.

He threw a punch at the demon’s neck, taking her by surprise. The demon gasped and opened her mouth, black smoke pouring out of it as she screamed.

“ _Et Secta Diabolica, Omnis Congregatio, Omnis Legio, Omnis Incursio Infernalis Adversarii, Omnis Spiritus, Exorcizamus!”_

The black smoke returned to its host as she sucked in a breath. Cas grabbed hold of his gun across the room and took a shot.

The demon laughed. “Reverse exorcism. Cute, didn’t think that would work. But what’s a bullet gonna do besides harm the meatsuit?”

“That’s no ordinary bullet,” Cas said, a smile curling up at the corner of his mouth.

The demon furrowed her eyebrows and froze as she attempted to take two steps. “What is this?” she fumed.

“Devil’s trap carved into a bullet. I personally didn’t think  _that_  would work. Now if you excuse me, I have to make a call,” Cas remarked, pulling out his phone as he exited the motel room.

_“Cas?”_

“Dean,” Cas whispered, smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks. “It’s good, good to hear your voice. Uh- you have to get here. I’m in Indianapolis,” he added.

_“Yeah, I know.”_

“What? How-”

_“Never mind. Where are you, exactly? What’s going on?”_

Cas sighed. “Look for Harvey’s Inn. I’ve got Alastair’s servant in my room, she’s trapped. I could use some help- maybe getting info out of her.”

_“What? Cas, this afternoon, I got a voicemail from you saying you were, quote mark, absolutely fine. Fine my ass-”_

“I’ll explain everything later, I’m sorry. Please just, make it here.”

There was a silence on the other end.  _“Yeah, okay.”_

“Dean, I - it’s nice to hear from you,” Cas said.

 **Beep**.

++

Dean walked over to Room 27 and breathed in. He gave a hard knock on the door, and heard footsteps shuffle from the inside.

The door swung open to Cas, who thank God, looked okay enough. Dean stopped for a moment and stared, words unable to get out of his mouth.

“Dean,” Cas muttered.

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Are you- good, okay?”

“Boo-hoo, I’ve seen better reunions than that,” a snarky female voice called from inside the room.

Dean tilted his head as he entered the room. “Ah, so this is Alastair’s pet, eh?”

The demon smiled in a sarcastic manner. “Ah, so this is the one who made Castiel’s heart go all achy breaky, eh?”

“You shut your stupid mouth,” Dean sneered.

“Is my mouth really the stupid one?” The demon snapped back.

“Know what, screw you-”

“ENOUGH! Honestly, it’s like I’m in a room with a couple of middle schoolers,” Cas barked, the annoyance in his voice clear as he rubbed the side of his head.

Dean rolled his eyes and leaned back against one of the desks, crossing his arms as he glared daggers at the demon’s direction.

The demon’s eyes went black as she continued to smile at him.

“You can’t just let it get to you so easily,” Cas whispered at Dean.

Cas turned back to the demon in the chair before he could catch Dean’s disapproving reaction.

“I’ll ask you one more time, nicely. Then I might have to pass you to  _him_ , and really, he’s not as friendly as he looks,” Cas said.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Dean hissed.

“ _When_  it comes to demons,” Cas announced, eyeing Dean from the side. “Where is Alastair?” he asked the demon, who smiled up in response.

“Up. Yours.”

Cas sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Dean?” he turned and nodded in Dean’s direction before slipping out the demon knife in his pocket.

Dean took the knife in his own hands.

“See, you’ve already pissed me off, so. This ought to be a fun ride.”

The torture went on for thirty minutes.

Dean used mostly holy water and salt on the demon rather than the knife, after seeing how great an effect the knife had actually made on the demon’s host as well.

“What does Alastair want with him?” Dean demanded.

The demon panted, breaths still heavy from the burning of holy water against her skin. She stayed silent and stared hard at Dean, who threw another salt round at her.

“It’s not just him!” the demon yelped at the pain.

Dean and Cas exchanged glances at the sudden information spit out. Cas had been standing against a drawer whilst he watched the events take place. Within ten minutes he sort of spaced out at the repeated questions and actions Dean had made on the demon, and thought more about what they were going to do after this.

He had basically ignored Dean for weeks, and he knew Dean wasn’t the least bit happy about that. He had some explaining to do, and problem was; he wasn’t sure if he was having trouble on where to begin, or if he had a proper explanation at all.

Guilt, anxiety and uneasiness was most of what Cas had felt for the past few weeks. He remembered everything. Not being able to help, or do anything to stop the demon from hurting Dean with his own hands and attempting to manipulate his mind.

He even had his number changed. He moved from place to place, places which included the Roadhouse, his little apartment in Missouri, and Fargo.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

Cas snapped out of his thoughts and stood beside Dean, as they both glowered down at the demon in the chair.

“It’s not just him Boss is after. You think you two really met again and again by coincidence, or  _destiny_?” the demon retorted.

Dean and Cas took a moment to recall the many times they had ‘met’ in a year before they actually worked together. They looked at each other momentarily and then back at the demon.

“Keep talking,” said Cas.

“I’ll keep talking- only under one condition.”

“What?”

The demon paused and exhaled. “You take that knife and stab me right through the chest after I tell you.”

“You want us to kill you?” Dean asked with a raise of the eyebrows.

“There ain’t no point; I give you answers, I get tortured. I don’t give you answers, I get tortured. Believe me, you’d be doing me a favour for not sending me back there.”

Dean looked at Cas for a confirmation, and got a light nod in response.

“Fine, we’ll kill you. But you better start talkin’ real quick, sweetheart,” Dean said.

The demon peered down at the floor and then up at them again. “This isn’t the first time Alastair’s up to something. He says he does things for fun, revenge, sometimes both. But he did some planning with you two, and some other people in this country, who frankly don’t matter in this case, because their daddies didn’t become hunters after Mommy got baked in the oven-”

Dean flinched and stepped forward at the mention of his mum, pulling out the demon knife in his hands. He threatened the demon’s neck by letting the knife stay inches away from it.

“What, you want me to talk while I choke on my own blood? There’s plenty left of the story,” the demon murmured.

“Dean,” Cas whispered as he gently held Dean’s arm back.

Dean impatiently gave out a sigh as he stood back, placing the knife back to his side.

Cas gave him a reassuring look and turned back to the demon. “My father didn’t become a hunter. Why am I in the picture?”

“Your father, no. But Boss and your Mommy have a little history, that’s what I know,” the demon said.

Cas’ face dropped. “What  _history_?”

“I don’t know, but she sure as hell pissed him off in some way.”

“ _What_  history?” he commanded for an answer, but the demon stayed quiet as she smiled. Cas threw holy water at her, in which she screamed in response.

“They worked together. Did a little  _do_  on the way, but she picked the normal life over him. She cut him out, and met your dad. That’s when Alastair was hunted by many of our kind… for working with a hunter,” the demon let out, the agony clear in her voice.

Cas’ heart fell. He sensed Dean looking at him, the shock clearly written on his face as well. He shook his head and rubbed his face, turning away from everyone in the room.

“A hunter?  _My mother_ , a hunter?”

“Is it that much of a plot twist?” the demon chimed.

“And you’re saying she had a thing with Alastair, a  _demon_?” Cas continued to ask.

“That’s what started this whole thing,” the demon said.

Cas wasn’t able to ask questions anymore. It didn’t feel right, getting such well-kept information from a demon.

Dean glanced at him and read his face, knowing Cas wasn’t able to go on. “Where is Alastair?” Dean asked.

“You’ll kill me after this, right?”

“Where is he?”

The demon exhaled. “Lawrence, Kansas. At the moment, you’ll find him in a rather girly meatsuit, working as a bartender at The Barrel House. That’s all I know, now  _kill_  me.”

The demon shut her eyes and gasped as Dean stabbed her through the chest.

He looked over at Cas, who had walked over to the bed, burying his head in his hands. Dean waited before he spoke.

“You okay?”

Cas lifted his head up from his hands. “Yeah, just found out- my whole life has been a lie.”

“You know uh- she could be just screwin’ with ya. Demons do that,” Dean attempted.

Cas forced a small smile as he stayed silent.

Dean sighed and shrugged. “We’ll get through this, ‘right? We’re gonna gank that demon son of a bitch, and none of us be dyin’. You gonna stay in this crappy hole or get back home to Missouri?”

Cas looked down and swallowed hesitantly.

“Somebody stole my car.”

++

The drive was silent for the first four hours. Dean decided it’d be better to stay quiet for a while before he started asking the dozen questions he had in mind.

“You want to tell me where you’ve been, or what you’ve been up to these past four weeks?” Dean questioned.

“Um, I haven’t- been doing much.”

Dean kept his eyes on the road. “Oh, haven’t been doing much. I see. So, you just decided to cut me out? Not answer  _any_  of my calls, or texts?”

“Dean-”

“I thought you were  _dead_ , Cas. Dead. It took a week and a half for me to decide that it was okay, to finally call you. You needed your space, fine, I gave it. But would it have hurt so much to pick up the phone to let me know you were  _alive_?”

“I almost killed you. I put you in danger, and- you could’ve died just like that by my hands and- I  _couldn’t_ —” Cas stuttered out, swallowing the end of that sentence.

Dean watched him momentarily look at his hands, staying silent. He gave out a sigh.

“It wasn’t you. It’s not your fault something like that happened. But for Pete’s sake  _never_  go MIA like that again, you hear me? How’d you think I’ve felt these past few weeks?”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re one to consider someone’s feelings,” Cas whispered, more to himself than to Dean.

Dean flickered his eyes to Cas, pondering on his soft said words that meant worse.

“What’d you say?”

Cas shook his head. “Nothing, I- DEAN, ROAD!”  

Dean’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest as the car neared the very edge of a sharp corner. He quickly grabbed on to the steering wheel and turned at the last second, receiving several loud honks from a car passing by.

The Impala was thankfully back on track, and the both of them hadn’t been hurt anywhere, besides the quick rush of panic that ran through them for a second.

Dean breathed heavily and slapped the side of the steering wheel as he mumbled out a few curses.

“Keep your eyes on the road, can’t you?” Cas hissed, rubbing the top of his forehead while he slumped back against his seat.

“I’m sorry, the road isn’t exactly all I have on my mind right now, when it should be!”

Cas shook his head and sighed. “Pull over. It’s not safe to be arguing in a moving vehicle like this.”

“Are you serious?”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

Dean rolled his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. He slowed the car down and pulled over to the side of the road, when Cas had immediately opened the door before getting out.

Dean gave out an aggravated sigh as he did the same, to meet Cas standing against the passenger door.

“Okay,  _what_? You wanna- talk about us? Now?” Dean asked in a sarcastic tone.

“Yeah, let’s do that. Let’s talk about us,” Cas replied calmly, looking straight at Dean as he folded his arms across his waist.

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise and walked over the car to Cas. “What? Really?”

“First of all, I am sorry for ignoring you. I have no excuse for that. Second, _y_ _es_ , really. ‘Cause I want to know.”

Dean rolled his eyes. "Know what?"

“What you  _want_ , Dean,” Cas said, the bravery starting to pour out of him as Dean watched his face change. He stepped a couple of steps forward as he continued, softening his voice.

“There are times when I am so-  _sure_ and positive about how you feel. You look at me like- like you want something  _more_. And then you talk to me like that something more is… already there,” Cas added, making eye contact with Dean at the last sentence. Dean inhaled and exhaled deeply as he let Cas continue.

“But there are also times when you bring back the _‘professionals’_ talk, and check out people in front of me, and—leave me hanging,  _several_  times now,” Cas stopped to clear his throat, looking at the floor. “I’ve had it up to here.”

“So honestly, just tell me once;  _what do you want_?”

Dean took a few seconds to treasure this moment.

Three, two, one.

He tugged Cas by the collar, shutting his eyes as he finally crashed the other man’s lips against his. He let his hand travel up to the side of Cas’ face as he felt Cas’ body tense up, before Cas himself slightly leaned into the kiss, holding onto Dean as he did so.

Dean caught his breath as he pulled away, slowly opening his eyes to meet the other’s amused and blushing face. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his cool.

“There. Got your answer?”

Cas stood there, staring at the other man in awe and shook his head.

“You stupid bastard.” He took Dean by surprise as he shoved him against the car, pulling their faces together once more. The kiss was deeper, and longer, this time, with both of them acting at the same time.

One of Cas’ hands had found its way in Dean’s hair, while the other had curled around his waist, pulling them closer together. Dean leaned into him and wrapped his arms around his neck, closing the gap between them even more.

They let their foreheads rest against each other once they pulled away, and Dean kept his eyes locked on Cas’ lips.

“Y- You’re the stupid- bastard,” he stammered out, laughing a bit after.

Cas smiled in response, and they kissed again, shorter yet sweeter than the rest. Their eyes met, gazing into each other like it was the first time again. Cas leaned his head over at Dean’s shoulder, burying it into his neck while his hands met Dean’s middle back.

Dean chuckled and stretched his arms over Cas’ neck, holding him back tightly. “We’re hugging. You know, we’ve never really done this before.”

“I know- I’ve never hugged anyone in a long time. It’s weird, but- it feels right. With you.”

“Man, could you get any cheesier?”

Cas smiled into Dean’s shoulder and sighed. “I’m sorry I cut you out.”

Dean kept his arms around Cas tight, but turned his head the slightest to have his lips meet with Cas’ cheek. “It’s fine. Don’t be.”

They pulled away from each other when the sound of thunder filled their ears. It started to drizzle on them, tiny droplets of rain patting on their skin.

Dean laughed as he faced the sky. “Now that’s just- cliché and cheesy at the same time,” he said.

He stared down at their hands and intertwined their fingers together, earning a small smile from Cas.

Cas shrugged and pulled on Dean’s hand. “I don’t control the weather. C’mon, let’s get back to the car.”

++

“So uh… do I see you tomorrow?” Dean asked, looking out the window at the apartment that stood a few metres away from the car.

Cas nodded and stood still. “Yes. Yeah, I guess,” he said.

“Okay- then. I’ll see you,” Dean responded, a slight hint of disappointment shown in his voice. He gave a smile and nodded while biting his lip hesitantly.

“I better- go then,” Cas said, keeping his eyes on Dean.

He loosened his grip on the door handle as he leaned in, aiming for Dean’s cheek. Dean quickly held Cas by the face, pulling their lips together in a lock once more.

Cas stayed in shock for a second, before eventually leaning and smiling into the kiss, gently holding onto the side of Dean’s face as their mouths moved together.

They pulled away like the first time they kissed, amusement and redness sprawled across their faces. Cas exhaled and nodded quickly as he stared at Dean’s lips, licking his own in the process.

“You should- you should definitely come inside.”

Dean nodded back the same way. “Yeah that’s- that sounds good too.”

They got out of the car and made their way to the apartment, arms brushing against one another as they walked. Dean smiled and playfully shoved Cas by the arm with his own, getting a breathy laugh and a shove back in return.

They did that a few more times on the way, before Cas waved an awkward hello at an old neighbour who caught them, and Dean did his best to hold in his laughter once he saw the expression on Cas’ face.

Cas pulled Dean by the hand once they got into the room and turned to him, a sign on his face that read, ‘What do we do next?’

Dean smirked and flickered his eyes to the bedroom. “You lead the way, professor.”

“That’s creepy. But okay,” Cas said with a smile. He purposely tugged on Dean’s sleeve with a little force and walked, leading them to the bedroom.

Dean feasted his eyes up and down Cas’ body in front of him, stumbling forwards a bit when Cas tugged his sleeve even harder. He kicked the door behind him shut, holding out both of his hands once Cas turned to face him.

Cas smiled and took them in his own, intertwining their fingers together and brushing his thumb across Dean’s knuckles. They rested their foreheads against each other and kissed softly. Cas tilted his head and leaned his body in as Dean planted soft kisses on his face, trailing them from the corner of Cas’ mouth, to his jawline, and then to the bottom of his neck.

Dean smiled to himself as he could feel Cas holding back a soft moan. He started to pace backwards to the bed while he still sucked on Cas’ neck and moved his hands to Cas’ arms, down to his waist, and then down to his thighs.

Cas gasped just before Dean crashed his lips onto his again. He led and pushed Dean to the end of the bed, causing them to pull away, and for Dean to almost fall back completely. Dean’s arms spread out behind him, palms pressed into the bed while Cas leaned over him.

Cas’ own hands found its way to the top of Dean’s on the bed while they kissed again. Dean pulled away and whispered, “You really sure you wanna do this?”

Cas nodded. “Yeah,” he replied. He then furrowed his eyebrows. “Why, do you not want to? ‘Cause I don’t want to if you don’t want to. Unless you’re just freaking out on me again, Dean, I swear-”

“No, no! Shh, shut up,” Dean scolded in a hushed voice. “I want to. You’ve just had a long day, and you probably have a lot on your mind, you know, after- everything.”

Cas smirked. “Trust me, there’s only one thing on my mind right now.”

And with that, Dean grinned as he shuffled along the bed. He wrapped his hand around Cas’ head as Cas climbed on top of him, pulling him down into another long and passionate kiss.

Dean gasped, holding onto Cas’ back as Cas buried his own head into his neck, leaving kisses of his own. He turned his head as he noticed a patch of black inked into Cas’ skin from the corner of his eyes.

He lifted the back of Cas’ shirt and grinned at what he saw that was marked between his shoulder blades. “You inked up?”

Cas pulled away from Dean’s neck and raised his head, ogling his eyes over the other man. “Of course, I had to. Do you… not like it?”

“No. Not one bit,” Dean said teasingly, biting down on his lower lip while he shook his head. “Not at all, because I think it just made you ten times hotter.”

Clothes were taken off within a minute, and Cas had the beige sheets pulled right above them.

++

The next morning it was Dean who woke up first. He stayed in bed with Cas, who was still asleep, and brushed the hairs out of his face lightly. He shuffled in closer when he felt Cas wake up beneath him, resting his arm rest around Cas’ side.

Cas reached for Dean’s arm and brushed his thumb against it as he turned, lifting his head up to look at Dean. He smiled tiredly.

“Morning,” he murmured.

“Hi, mornin’ sunshine. I gotta say, last night- it was like you were a sweet piece of pie and a dangerous piece of hell in between,” Dean said with a laugh.

“Hey, I’m the one with the marks of territory all over,” Cas said, showing a purple bruise on the side of his neck.

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise at the bruise and smirked. He leaned into the touch of Cas’ hand cupping and stroking his face, smiling genuinely.

Cas sat further up and kissed Dean’s forehead shortly. “Coffee?” he offered, covering his naked body with the sheet as he reached for the boxers on the floor.

He picked it up and observed it. “This is yours. Where’s mine?”

“Here,” Dean said as he bent over to pick up the underwear on the floor beside him.

They threw the underwear in their hands at each other, catching them both simultaneously. Dean grinned.

“Look at that. We’re disgustingly adorable already,” he said.

Cas let a wide smile spread across his face, shaking his head as he put on his boxers, followed by a t-shirt. Dean pouted his lips as Cas left the bed, earning a questioning look from Castiel.

“What?”

“You don’t want to maybe, postpone the coffee and come lie here with me instead?” Dean asked with a hopeful smile.

Cas thought for a moment, moving his eyes to the upper right corner of his head in a light-hearted manner, then flickered them back at Dean.

“No. Coffee sounds good. Maybe if you, get your lazy ass up and about you’d be able to join me,” he said.

Dean smirked and shook his head, looking at his hands as he whispered,

“Can’t believe I might just love you.”

“What?”

“What?” Dean said as he looked up with an unknowing face, pausing for a moment.

“You said something,” Cas squinted, his mouth slowly forming into a smile.

“No I didn’t.”

Cas nodded at him knowingly as he paced closer to Dean. “Yeah, okay.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows at him and fought a smile, staying quiet.

The next thing Dean knew Cas was by his side, pulling their lips together again. Cas nuzzled into Dean’s neck, holding him across the waist.

That morning, they postponed coffee.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, just so you know (if anyone's been reading from the start, i doubt it) i made a slight change at the end of this chapter! ;)


	5. Bad Blood

 

_***_

_All this bad blood here, won't you let it dry?_

_It's been cold for years, won't you let it lie?_

_***_

Dean looked up from his mug, letting his eyes search the room when he noticed an unusual silence. He put down his mug and got up from his seat to walk out of the kitchen as an attempt to look for Cas.

Castiel sat slouched against the back of the sofa with his laptop, and Dean could see the reason he was so silent. Cas was playing  _Sudoku_ , of all things. Dean stepped forward a few times to announce his presence, but Cas continued to remain still. Dean let out a short sigh and took a seat across him, keeping his eyes locked on Cas.

His hair was flat on his head unlike most days.

“Cas,” Dean called softly.

Cas acknowledged him with two nods, still keeping his eyes on the screen. Dean bit his lip and chose to continue.

“Uh, I think it’s time to talk about it,” Dean said.

Cas paused. The actual hesitation to reply was clear all over his face.

“About?” Cas’ voice finally broke.

Dean was beginning to lose his patience. He did his best to not show it, holding back from rolling his eyes or grunting and sighing loudly as he clenched his jaw instead.

“Um, Alastair. What the hell he really wants and what we’re gonna do about it. That stuff,” Dean said clearly.

He watched as Cas took a moment to decide on what to say. Cas finally looked up from the screen at Dean and shut his laptop, sighing.

“Do you want another blow?”

“ _What?_ ” Dean sneered. He raised his voice a little, pushing the thought of not doing so. “Stop trying to change the subject every God damn time, Cas, we need to talk about it—”

“Why? Why do we  _have_  to care anymore?” Cas responded back.

“Are you really asking that? What the hell’s up with you?” Dean interrogated, folding his arms across his waist.

“Nothing’s up with me,” Cas said with nothing more. That was all it took for Dean to get up and walk over to the bedroom.

Dean simply grabbed his bag, not bothering about whatever else he could have left there. He turned around, hoping to see Cas standing at the door with an attempt to talk him out. Cas stayed seated in his sofa with the laptop flat on his lap, a hand over his mouth.

“Where are you going?” Cas asked as Dean’s footsteps filled the room, the back of his head still facing Dean.

“I don’t know, anywhere.”

“Are you coming back?”

Dean scoffed, stopping in his tracks. “Why, do I have to now? Maybe, maybe I’ll come back when you decide that I’m not just some dude you _suck off_ when you feel like it.” He turned his back and started pacing to the door.

“Dean—”

“No,” Dean cut him off. He faced Cas again, who actually got up from his seat this time. “I’ve been  _trying,_  to get us to talk about this stuff for a couple of days now and all you do is distract me with sex. Damn it Cas,  _you_  were the one who called me out about not considering your fucking feelings and  _pushed_  me into this like, two weeks ago? What the hell  _am_ I to you now?” Dean finished. He walked out before Cas could even respond with anything, slamming the door behind him.

He waited outside for a few more seconds, catching his breath as he leaned against the wall. He didn’t mean a few things he said. Cas didn’t push him into anything. It was what Dean wanted just as much. But Cas’ behaviour had made Dean so furious, the bare thought of filtering whatever came out of his mouth was pushed away from Dean’s head.

Cas had been nice the first week after they reunited.  _They_ were being nice to each other, acting like a normal couple in their ‘honeymoon phase’.

 _Couple_. If that was what they really were anyway. The thought made Dean grunt.

Dean knew it was all too good and gross to last long, with the subject of Alastair still out there playing at the back of his mind. The subject had to be brought up someday.

When Dean did bring it up the first time, Cas averted the subject quickly and simply moved closer to him on the couch. They made out, and had sex after. Dean was a little too happy with him to refuse the other two times as well, similar cases.

Cas’ behaviour stepped down each time Dean brought it up. Dean decided it had gone too far when he realized it had been two full weeks of not doing  _anything_  related to hunting and that Cas had no problem with it at all.

What angered him the most was that Cas hadn’t even tried to stop him from walking out the door.

++

“Everything,” Cas muttered to himself, staring at the empty space in front of him.

He contemplated on chasing after Dean, telling him he’s absolutely right about everything, convincing him to stay and sitting down to actually talk about it.

Cas didn’t. He stopped himself from doing all of that. He tried to tell himself he had a reason for being such a dick the past few days, but now that he thought about it, it really didn’t make sense to him at all.

It was unsettling whenever Dean reminded him of Alastair. He thought about how much Alastair wanted him dead, or something possibly worse. When Dean brought the subject up, which Cas didn’t blame him for at all, Cas started to think about how far Alastair would go to hurt him. Dean would be involved. Dean would get hurt. Dean would die.

Dean meant a whole lot to him. Cas was just afraid of  _how_ much. What they were, whether or not either of them wanted a label, Cas decided Dean meant far too much to him during the time they spent together. He never told Dean all this, regretting it each day, but he never found the guts to, because the moment he says three particular frustrating words- boom, there's a label for the supernatural to take advantage of.

If only Dean was horrible. If only Dean was some stuck-up son of a bitch with no gratitude, that would make things easier, and he never would've worked with the man in the first place. Dean could never be that though, whatever way Cas put it.

Dean and him spent two weeks pretending things were normal. They spent it being lazy and gross, living in their own world where the only things that existed were sex, food, and well, more sex. Because God, they couldn't keep their hands off each other.

Cas loved their moments after that the most. Touching, curling fingers finding themselves entangled in the other person's hair, soft smiles sent in each other's way. And then they talked, about anything really, just not Alastair, and what they were.

Cas didn't know anyone else he loved like this.

The only time Dean said he loved him was the morning after they slept together the first time, and Cas had pretended not to hear. Cas wanted to say it back, there and then, and damn, he wish he did.

He thought maybe, maybe if Dean cared for him less and less each day it’d be easier. Maybe it’d hurt less if Dean walked out on him. Cas was definitely wrong about that.

After letting out a heavy sigh with fingers running through his hair, Castiel had a cigarette in his hand when he decided it was time to call his brother.

++

“Hey Cinderella, you’re home early.”

Dean rolled his eyes and dropped his bag to the floor, ignoring Sam’s remark. He laid himself on the couch and stretched out his legs, placing his right foot over his left.

“So… you’ve been at Cas’ place for a while,” Sam said.

“Yup.”

“How is he?” Sam asked.

Dean shut his eyes and folded his arms to support the back of his head.

“Bein’ a straight class dick, that’s what,” Dean murmured loud enough for Sam to hear. He didn’t catch Sam’s reaction, having his eyes still closed, but he could feel the level of awkward in the air rise at the silence.

“Uh, do you- wanna talk about- no?” Sam finally let out.

“Don’t force yourself Sammy,” Dean answered. “Hey, when was the last time  _we_ went on a hunt?” he suddenly mentioned, sitting up slightly.

Sam shrugged. “The week before last week? I don’t know. You sure you’re good?”

“We should find a case. Let’s find a case. Seriously, I feel like if I don’t do something good for the community I’ll end up actually  _doing_  something good for the community,” Dean rambled.

Sam pressed his lips together in a straight line and raised his eyebrows. “That made no sense. But sure, I guess. I mean, I thought you’d have at least been on one job working with—”

Dean eyed him to end his sentence right there. Sam paused and nodded, raising his hands in a form of surrender. Sam never pushed on topics Dean didn’t like to talk about, but Dean knew somewhere along the way he’d get at least one sentence out of him without even trying.

“O-kay. I’m gonna go talk to Bobby and find a case for us,” Dean stated, lifting himself from the couch.

“ _I’ll_ get us a case. You get some rest and sleep or something, seriously,” Sam interjected back. He gestured his finger for Dean to sit back down, earning a questioning raise of the eyebrows as a response.

Dean laughed. “I’ve had like two weeks of rest, in what world do I ever do that?

“I’m just saying, you look beat, and I mean it in the non-physical kind of way.”

“Right, that matters now,” Dean huffed.

“It does, and I’m just saying,” Sam replied back, shrugging his shoulders.

 He sighed in defeat when Sam looked back at him worriedly. “Fine, whatever. I’ll ‘sleep it off’ while you find a job that’s nowhere near Kirksville, Missouri.”

++

“You lied to me.” Cas got straight to the point as soon as he picked up.

_“Hello to you too, Castiel!”_

Cas rolled his eyes. “The address you sent me— do you even know what  _happened_  when I got there?”

There was a pause on the other end. Cas heard his brother let out a tired sigh.

_“Look, it wasn’t supposed to happen, I’m—”_

“You’re what? You’re sorry?” Cas laughed. “How many God damn times do I have to hear that from you?” he sneered, partially letting his emotions take over. He coughed slightly at the cigarette smoke in the air, waving his hand in front of his face.

 _“You’re smoking again. And you possibly have a drink close to you.”_  Gabriel’s voice cut through after a lengthy pause.

Cas darted his eyes towards the empty whisky glass standing on the round desk next to him. “What’s it to you?”

_“I’m coming over, I’ll be there in a few hours. Cas, drop the blunt.”_

“Whatever.”

++

The ride to Ames, Iowa the next day was fairly comfortable. The brothers were used to long-hour drives, the radio blasting at an appropriate enough volume for them, and the stops at gas stations to refill gas or spend a few bucks on road food.

It was only a four hour drive from Bobby’s anyway. Sam had found a case about an apparent ‘landslide accident’, causing seven deaths, one on each day of the week. Dean was up for it. He definitely needed something to fight, shoot, or stab. He never exactly fancied his job, but at some point of time working on the case, maybe he’d feel good about himself.

_‘Oh, earth angel, will you be mine?’_

Dean rolled his eyes at the song playing and pressed a button to change the track.

_‘I wanna know what love iiiisss, I want you to show me’_

“Are you kidding me?” Dean scrunched his face, glaring at the radio before turning it off completely.

Sam smirked. “You obviously need to talk about something.”

“No, I don’t,” Dean firmly said while shaking his head.

“Well, you’re gonna let it out one way or another,” Sam persisted. He stayed quiet for the next few minutes, looking out the window as his brother continued to drive fast.

Dean sealed his lips together and kept his focus on the road. Nope, nope, nope, he’s not going to give in.

“He’s just- all of a sudden he’s so _damn freakin’_ ignorant and moody, things were going great one week and the next it just-” Dean paused, unsure of what word to use. He simply slapped the steering wheel with his right hand and muttered, “Yeah, why am I telling you this?”

“Well, do you think that maybe… that’s just how he is?” Sam shrugged.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “What, like I’ve only begun to know him now? I hunted with him for  _two_  months. I’ve done what I can to take the bullet for him and hell, he’s probably done that  _twice_ for me already. I’m telling you, Sam, there’s something weird with him lately. All he’s done for the past two days is play Sudoku on his laptop.”

Sam nodded, taking in Dean’s words. “Punch me for asking this out of the blue but, do you  _love_ him?”

“I’ll take the punch first,” Dean uttered immediately.

“Dean.”

Dean looked straight at the road, keeping both his hands tight on the steering wheel. He cleared his throat, biting down on his bottom lip.

“It’s different, that’s what I know,” he softly said. He momentarily flickered his eyes to Sam, to catch him hiding a smile.

“So you do.”

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled, playfully pushing his brother’s arm.

Sam smiled even more, then wiped it off his face when he spoke again. “Well, I guess if you do, then- you should be there for him, you know? He could be going through something, and maybe he needs you more than you think right now,” Sam continued. He looked over at Dean when silence was all his brother responded with, but Dean kept his eyes on the road.

Dean sighed. “How the heck do you do that? Stop it, it’s annoying,” he said.

“Do what?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come up with all that stuff, it’s as if you weren’t even trying.”

“I  _wasn’t_ trying, stickhead- it’s ‘cause you’re my brother. We know each other better than anyone and I know what you need to hear.”

“ _Seriously_ , that line?”

++

"Yooo, I'm here! You could have picked up your phone and told me which house you were staying at, I had to ask the cute counter lady downstairs to confirm you were here and not in Fargo. But I know you’re mad, I’ve got  _tons_ of explaining to—" Gabriel made his usual cheery entrance, swinging the door open to a quiet room.

"Cas?" Gabriel called as he walked in. "C'mon, no tricks here," he said with a laugh.

The apartment remained silent. Gabriel checked each room, slowly studying the area while his hand held firm on the gun at his belt. 

After ensuring the area was clear, Gabriel slipped out his phone from his pocket to call his brother.

_"You've reached Castiel's voicemail. Leave a message after the beep, I guess."_

"Hey. Where are you? I see your drink, your blunt, and -" Gabriel paused. Black cigarette ashes sat with another familiar kind of powder on the ashtray on the round table.

"Holy fish on a stick."

++

"So get this, it was found out that the victims had their  _ears_  ripped off, so I think - Dean?"

Sam frantically looked around him, scanning the motel room for a sign of his brother's presence. "Dean?" He called out again.

He checked the bathroom and outside the motel, then dialed his brother's number into the phone.

_"This is Dean's cell, leave a message."_

"Dean, where are you? Call me back," Sam said into the phone before ending the call. He called another two times, only to have it go to voicemail again.

He waited for another few minutes and observed the room for clues. Nothing seemed different other than his brother's absence. Sam looked over at Dean's bed momentarily and whipped his head back when he noticed yellow powder peeping out from the edge of the blanket.

He walked over to the bed and pressed two fingers lightly at the powder's surface. He brought his fingers to his nose, before letting out a grimace at the smell.

"Sulphur."

++

Dean gained consciousness to a few voices surrounding him and a pull on his wrist as he attempted to move it. He peeked through an open eye, managing to get a glimpse of three backs turned toward him. They discussed among themselves in muffled tones. Dean moved his gaze to his hand as he begun to realize it was unnecessarily cold around his wrist. The cold metal trapped his wrist by cuffing it to a semi-circular handle. His legs were sprawled across the floor, his back starting to ache as he attempted to sit up after seemingly to have leaned against the cabinet behind him for days.

He popped both eyes open, blinking a few times to study the room he was in. Most of the furniture were probably made by shiny, expensive wood, while a cloth of red velvet covered a high chair at the centre of the room. The room wasn’t too big, but Dean thought it looked like a fancy office room, probably owned by a person of high position. He looked over to his left where a wooden table stood with today’s newspaper. It was too distant to see the date. He lightly shook his wrist to see how tough the handcuff was on him, having it harshly clank even at the slightest pull.

One of the men turned to him, clapping a hand to another man’s arm. “He’s awake.”

Dean kept still in his position, eyes glaring daggers at the unknown men surrounding him. “Where am I?” he questioned.

The men ignored him, exchanging looks with one another.

Dean huffed. “Answer the damn question, you bastards!” he yelled.

“Shut up,” a slender middle-aged guy hissed at him. He leaned his body over Dean’s, towering above him while Dean leaned back against the cabinet again.

Dean peered his eyes upwards when the sound of keys jingling against one another filled his ears from above him. A key was placed into the lock hole, twisting and unlocking the cuff around Dean’s wrist. Dean rubbed his wrist, looked up at the guy, and swung his arm to punch the guy’s jaw swiftly.

Dean got up on two feet right away, preparing himself to fight with the other two men. All three pairs of eyes in front of him clouded black, staring worriedly in Dean’s direction. The guy Dean punched came at him, pushing him against the cabinet with an incredible kick. Dean retreated, moving to the side as the demons neared him. He threw another good punch at the first demon’s nose followed by a slam to the body, causing the demon to throw his head back and yelp as he landed on the floor.

The second one held Dean from the back, trapping his hands together. Dean felt the same pair of handcuffs wrapped around both his wrists this time at his lower back.

The third demon in front of him smirked. “You’re good. But not—”

Dean pounded the knee of the demon behind him with his right foot, knowing exactly where to hit to knock someone down for a while. He did the same to the demon in front of him before he could even finish his sentence. He moved away from the three figures, who have already gotten up and could attack him at any moment.

The first demon laughed, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re ‘gon die, boy—”

“I  _believe_  I’ve already said not to threaten him, haven’t I?” a new voice filled the room. Dean looked around him. The voice didn’t belong to any of the three demons.

Dean turned around. Five feet away at the front of the door stood a man in a dark suit, presumably shorter than the other four people in the room.

One of the demons staggered. “Y- Yes, sir, we were just—”

With a simple, short click of the fingers, the three demons vanished from Dean’s sight, leaving with a cloud of black smoke. The handcuffs dropped to the ground effortlessly, letting Dean’s hands free loosely.

Dean nearly hopped a step back in surprise. He didn’t know anyone, or any _thing that had_  the ability to do that. He lifted his gaze to look at the man again, who returned it shortly.

“Dean Winchester. Good to see you’re awake.”

“Who are you, how did I get here, and what the  _hell_  do you want?” Dean shot his questions straight-forwardly. He looked around the room. “Where’s my brother?”

The man at the door raised his hands in surrender, smiling thinly in a not-so-genuine manner.

“I just want to talk,” he uttered.

“ _Where’s my brother?”_ Dean repeated, raising his voice.

“Relax. Your brother’s in the fine hands of a lovely djinn in Ames, Iowa,” the man said with a smile.

“Lay a finger on him and I swear I’ll rip your  _throat_ out-”

“Kidding. Sam’s probably searching the whole country for you, calling everyone he knows,” the man cut him off before Dean could protest more.

Dean looked at him suspiciously. “Who are you?” he asked.

The man sighed. “Name’s Crowley. I’m a demon. More than that, I am the King of Hell.”

Dean played that sentence over and over in his head and smirked, raising his eyebrows disbelievingly. “Ah, I see.  _King of Hell_ , that’s new. So what, not a fan of Lucifer or something?” he spoke, as if his sarcasm had its own language.

“Not really,” Crowley shrugged. “But I really am the king, choose to believe it or not.”

Dean paused in his spot, registering the words. It was definitely hard to believe that the ‘King of Hell’ stood right before him, but the seriousness in Crowley’s tone made it seem believable.

“Why should I trust you? I’m here against my own will, three of your minions tried to beat me up, and I’m hungry as hell, so I’m assuming I’ve been asleep for at least a day here.”

“Well, I got rid of them, and I’ve answered some of your questions, haven’t I? Come with me, Dean,” Crowley invited, gesturing his head to the next room before leaving to it without caring to catch Dean’s response.

Dean hesitated and looked around the room for any weapons he could use in case things got out of hand. He grabbed a knife on the floor, probably dropped by one of the three demons as Crowley walked in and hid it at his belt.

He slowly took a few steps out the door, poking his head out to see what he was going into. It looked like an ordinary, rich person’s living room, most of the furniture made from wood and velvet just like the previous room. He watched as Crowley took a seat in a one-seat velvet sofa between two people standing at his sides. Dean obviously assumed they were demons as well.

He eyed each of them, waiting for someone to tell him what in hell he’s here for.

“Oh. Yes, take a seat,” Crowley added. He looked over at both demons at his side, muttering, “Bring the other one in.”

“Bring who in?” Dean interfered.

Crowley sent the demons away to a near room and turned to Dean. “Have a seat, Dean Winchester. We have company joining us.”

“Yeah, I’ll pass. You’ve barely told me what the  _hell_ is going on,” Dean countered.

Crowley sighed. Just as he opened his mouth to say some ignorant comeback, the two demons returned, holding a figure’s arms at each side.

 _“I can walk myself,”_ the voice to that figure said in an annoyed tone. Dean could recognize that voice anywhere, anytime.

He looked up straight across him, to see Cas, looking as tired as ever, held by the two demons.

“Cas!” Dean called out, already pacing towards him.

Cas stared back with wide eyes silently in shock, his mouth left open. “Dean?” he muttered under his breath.

As Dean took another few steps towards him, a simple shape of a fist made by Crowley was all it took for Dean to jump back against the nearest wall from a narrow force.

“Save the reunion for later. Meanwhile, the three of us need to have a talk,” Crowley said.

“Son of a bitch, let me go!” Dean hissed as his head banged once again against the wall.

Crowley rolled his eyes and waved his hand to let Dean go. Dean got back on two feet, breathing heavily as he averted his gaze to Cas. The demons were no longer there beside him. Cas looked deep in panic thought, keeping his eyes to the ground.

“Have a seat, Castiel,” Crowley offered.

Cas looked up and shook his head, crossing his arms. “Standing is good for me.”

Crowley puffed out a breath and threw his head against the back of the sofa. “You  _hunters,_ so bloody  _stubborn,”_ he uttered quietly.

Before they knew it, Dean and Cas were on individual seats, pulled forcefully into them. The both of them fell silent, catching their breath as their eyes were still wide in shock.

Crowley clapped both his hands together. “Right then. Now that we’re all seated and ready, we can start the story.”

“What story? What the hell is going on?” Cas fumed. He looked at Dean for answers, but Dean was just as confused as he was.

Crowley smiled. “A story about; partnership. Love. Feud. Purpose. A story about; well, two people who weren’t exactly supposed to meet, but did. A few times. Two people who had their differences, but somehow link as if they were bound to be together.”

Dean scrunched up his face in confusion at the likely rehearsed line. “What- you talking about  _us_?”

“Technically, yes. But in both your point of views, there are plenty of holes in the story. Correct?”

Dean and Cas looked at him questioningly, then to each other for answers. Crowley sighed. “Holes. You know, how some things are still missing in the plot. Like, Alastair and what the hell he wants, or maybe how you two met by coincidence  _four_  times that year.”

“So you’re saying…” Cas thought out loud. He didn’t exactly want to finish his sentence, whether it came out wrong or right, and Dean could so easily tell.

“That I know who, what, where, why, and how. Now this is the part when I actually start telling you what’s going on, so your attention would be appreciated. Silently.”

++

“Believe it or not, boys, the three of us have got one thing in common.”

“Yeah, what’s that? Stubble?”

Crowley patiently held a glance at Dean. The Winchester plastered a fake smile and shrugged at his own remark while Cas squinted back at him. “I don’t fancy your sarcasm. And no, I’m talking about the want to have Alastair’s head on a metal plate,” Crowley stated with a straight face.

Both Dean and Cas glanced up at the mention of  _Alastair_ , wondering what they had gotten themselves into. “Who are you, really?” Cas asked.

“Crowley. King of Hell,” Crowley introduced casually quick before clapping his palms together. Cas simply looked to Dean, dismayed by such a position to even exist and at the fact that him and Dean were possibly in the same room with the actual  _King of Hell_. Dean ignored him by keeping his eyes peeled on Crowley, as if he was watching his every move to make sure the whole thing wasn’t some trick.

“Alastair; cruel, smart, cunning when he was human, as I’ve heard. Did terrible things as a warlock, went to hell. Obviously at the time I was still just the top salesman, lurking around Earth, making deals with self-centred humans. A couple of  _centuries_  pass and blah blah blah, I’m already promoted to the highest spot, you don’t need to hear that rollercoaster of a story.

“I let him off the rack within that time and offered him a chance to start torturing souls himself. He was brilliant at it. Finest torturer of hell, really,” Crowley told, summarizing a probably thousand-paged story. “He was my second in command afterwards. Stood by my side wherever I went. Then, there was a sort of…  _misunderstanding_. This is where your mother comes in, Castiel.”

Cas clenched his jaw and leaned forward, a hand over his mouth as he elbowed his lap. Seeing Cas like that, Dean had never wanted more than to be by his side, no matter how mad he was about everything. It would’ve been better than sitting a metre away from him anyway.

“Naomi Milton; former hunter,” Crowley said. He awaited a response from the both of them, specifically Cas, stressing an eye at his direction. Cas and Dean had looked as if they waited for  _him_ to elaborate further.

Cas nodded instead. “Yes, I know my mother was a hunter.”

“You  _know_? Why wasn’t I informed of this? Who told you?” Crowley asked, worry almost filling his voice halfway.

“Yes,  _we_ know. We forced it out of a demon. She told us about Alastair and my mother and… their affairs,” Cas responded. He looked to the floor towards the end of his sentence, clearing his throat.

Crowley froze, glancing elsewhere as he thought to himself silently. He mouthed a big ‘oh’ after a few seconds and smirked in Cas’ direction, raising an eyebrow. “That’s what Cecily told you?  _Alastair_ and your mum?”

Cas’ eyes flickered back to Crowley questioningly. “Well, that’s what it is, isn’t it? She left him for the normal life, made him go berserk and planned—” he halted his rambling when all Crowley did was look back with surprise at every sentence. “That demon lied, didn’t she?”

“Cecily was always the type to play both sides. Smart, too. It’d be a pity if you killed her after that,” Crowley stated. “I don’t blame you for believing her though, she had her way with making things up.”

Cas laid back in his seat, hand over his face completely. Dean was just as shocked, but he couldn’t possibly imagine what Cas was feeling right now.

“She told the truth about one thing, though. Alastair did go berserk,” Crowley said softly. He formed his mouth in a straight line. “Because  _I_ was the one having a little soft spot for Naomi.”

Cas registered the words slowly, the look in his eyes turning from shock, to denial, then to complete utter  _anger_  Dean’s never seen before. “You’ve got to be  _joking_  me.”

Cas darted out of his seat and threw one hand forward to Crowley’s collar, the other holding dear onto a knife he had kept up his sleeve, aiming it at the demon’s neck.

“Cas!” Dean called out, only to be side-eyed and ignored.

“You’re telling  _me_ , that Dean and I are involved in this- that both my parents  _died,_ because of you?” Cas demanded.

“Hands off me, or I’ll rip them off myself,” Crowley threatened with a casual smile.

“Will you?” Cas snapped back.

Dean stood up from his seat, making a gesture with his hand. “Cas, just do what he says. He could kill you with a snap,” he said. Cas gulped and fixated his eyes on Crowley, glaring at him as he tightened his grip on his knife. “Please,” Dean pleaded softly, but loud enough for him to hear.

Cas stayed quiet. He huffed and let go, backing up as he cast the knife away. He went back to his seat, finally tearing his dagger-filled gaze away.

Crowley exhaled and wiped the front of his dark suit shortly. “That was awkward.”

Cas glanced at Dean in defeat, tiredness and apologies written all over his face as he internally pleaded for Dean to keep talking. Dean got the message, as always, and opened his mouth to say something until Crowley spoke once again.

“Now  _that_ , was the same misunderstanding. Alastair assumed that I had actually grown attached to a hunter; when really, it was just a fling. He thought I gave her free passes to certain things, ruined business downstairs. In other words, Alastair no longer thought I was trustworthy or good enough for a leader. Subsequently, he had the idea of becoming king himself, while nobody really supported him at the time. He went completely off his rocker, started telling me off like a  _moody_ teenager, and left without a warning.”

Dean listened in and understood, but there were still a few missing puzzle pieces that needed to fit. “Okay so, Alastair goes nuts, kills a bunch of people including our parents, what does he actually want with us if we’re not dead already?”

“Right. He does want you two dead, in fact he’s tried a few times. All I had to do was stop him,” Crowley said. “And why in hell would I do that, you ask?” he continued, exchanging glances with the both of them before they could question it.

“Well, maybe, you two are just what I need to put Alastair out of the picture completely.”

Cas scoffed. “You want  _us,_ humans, to kill a mad demon?”

“I don’t get it, you’re the King of Hell, can’t you just snap your fingers and bust him out?” Dean suggested.

“I can’t do that, because Alastair…” Crowley exhaled angrily. “Has me under a bloody spell. I can’t use my powers against him. And as of yesterday, my powers deplete by day,” he explained.

Dean wondered how that was even possible. “You’re saying- you can’t kill him because he, a demon, put you, a demon, King of  _Hell_  actually, under a freaking  _spell?_ ”

“He’s had me powerless against him for decades. Yesterday he went too far, and I’ve officially declared war between us. He has his supporters now, I have mine. So what do you say, kill him, get something spontaneous in return?” Crowley offered, half-smiling as he eyed the both of them.

“I still feel like there’s something missing,” Cas uttered, shaking his head.

Crowley sighed. "How do you two think you keep meeting by coincidence? Basically, I indirectly sent you two on the same cases, and then I’ll save one of your lives, whoever’s in trouble. Remember Earl McLaren, Castiel? He wouldn’t have killed you if Dean hadn’t stepped in, because I didn’t let him. McLaren had always been under my control, even when he was human,” he explained.

Dean remembered doing his own research that day. He remembered going into that house, finding an incredibly bossy Cas, and then saving him from the violent spirit. He did notice a slight change of behaviour when McLaren loosened his grip on Cas when he could have just killed him then and there. The fact that Crowley had him under control when he was human moreover explained the entire serial killer case after all.

“And Dean, that case about a witch in Omaha, did you manage to find out how you were knocked out for three straight days? Sorry about that by the way, the sleeping spell was only supposed to last a few hours. Just enough for you to wake up and realize you’re being driven away in your own car,” Crowley said, placing a hand on his face with a bored expression. “Right, then there was that other witch, one of Alastair’s, killed her before she killed you. That was fun.”

Dean stopped to think about everything that’s happened to both him and Cas since they first met. He shook his head in disgust. “That’s just messed up and- messed up! What were you when you were human? One of those creepy matchmakers? Jeez, how long have you been watching?” he expressed.

Crowley stitched his eyebrows together in confusion. “What are you rambling on about?”

Dean paused before shaking his head. “Nothing,” he muttered.

“You two-  _already_?” Crowley marveled.

“Shut up,” Cas hissed loudly. “Tell me one thing, and maybe I won’t stick a knife into your throat later,” he continued, earning another pensive glare from Dean. “What is my brother up to?”

Crowley smirked at the question. “Gabriel? I’m afraid he’s got approximately one thousand, six hundred and nineteen days- about five years left.”

“ _What?_ ”

“He made a deal. To keep you and your sister alive throughout this whole thing. It’s why he gave you that blade and the address. I was the one who gave it to him,” Crowley revealed.

Cas dug his fingernails into his palm as his breathing began to escalate. “ _Why_ \- why would he—”

“Alastair tricked many of us. You weren’t supposed to get possessed, I can promise you that. Do you still have that blade with you?” Crowley asked.

“I have it. Somewhere safe,” Dean answered firmly for him. Cas looked like he was about to throw up at any minute then.

“Good.  _Use_  it to kill Alastair and any of his followers. Do that, and I’ll cancel Gabriel’s deal,” Crowley insisted, leaning forward in his seat.

Cas looked up. “Your choice of words aren’t the best.”

“Fine. Kill Alastair, I’ll let you, Dean, your brother, and sister live. I can’t guarantee that she wakes up, but nobody goes to Hell, I swear on it,” Crowley suggested, crossing his own chest. Dean huffed at how ironic it was, and then snapped back to the real situation.

“Cas, just think about this for a minute—”

“Avenge your mother’s death. Your father’s death. Balthazar,” Crowley called out. Dean didn’t recognize the last name at all, but Cas glowered at the floor at the mention of it. “I’m sure Sam would want the demon who killed his girlfriend dead too, wouldn’t he, Dean?”

Dean bit down on his lip, exhaling a breath through his nose. “Alastair- Alastair killed Jessica?” he muttered. Crowley nodded. “How do I know you’re not lying? About everything?” Dean interjected.

“You don’t. You can’t. But I’ll let you know that I have  _never_ backed out on a deal, and I never will,” Crowley said. He switched his glance from Dean to Cas, who still refused to look at anyone in the room.

“We have a deal.”

++

“Just called Sam, he’s pretty damn freaked but he’s on his way and he wants an ‘immediate explanation’ as soon as he gets here,” Dean said, putting his phone away as he slipped onto the couch.

“You’re hurt.”

“I fell on my head when they knocked us out,  _again_. It’s just a tiny gush, I’m fine,” Dean uttered out as Cas shuffled closer to him, reaching his hand forward to lightly stroke the side of Dean’s forehead.

Cas continued to stare at it, his eyes full of what looked like worry and guilt at the same time. “You could get an infection with that.”

“Seriously Cas, I’m fine,” Dean assured again. He sighed as Cas left him on the couch, probably to get some first aid supplies.

Cas did in fact return with his first aid kit in his hands together with a damp washcloth. He sat himself next to Dean and eyed the gush on his forehead once again, full on concentrated as he placed the washcloth over the wound carefully. Dean kept his eyes locked on Castiel throughout the whole patching up process, not bothering about the stinging he felt when dabs of antiseptic or alcohol came in contact with his skin.

When Dean first saw Cas being walked in by a couple of demons, it sort of reminded Dean of how Cas looked in the morning; his face all grumpy and annoyed with his hair out of place. Cas looked like he had been woken up from a deep sleep with no more want than to go back, until he saw Dean. It was as if something hit him right on the head to wake him up. The alertness in his eyes, confusion, and hell, Dean’s never seen him with a face like that ever since the demon in him stabbed him in the arm.

But right then and there when Cas was gently applying the bandage on Dean’s forehead, Dean knew Cas noticed he was staring and did his best to not return the gaze. Cas finally looked back at him when he used a second tape. He quickly averted his eyes back to the bandage, swallowing nervously as he did so.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Cas asked, his voice low and soft. He dropped his hands to his lap when he was done with the bandaging, finally letting himself meet Dean’s eyes with his.

Dean smirked. “’Cause we always have the best moments when one of us is bleeding,” he said in a peaceful voice.

Cas tugged a corner of his mouth, a genuine smile forming that Dean hadn’t seen in days. He wiped it off his face immediately and dropped his gaze to the floor, sighing softly. Dean let him take a few moments to speak.

“I really screwed up, didn’t I? Not just this demon crap.  _Everything_ ,” Cas finally said.

Dean thought about the things he could reply with. “I’m still pretty mad at you. So yeah, you sort of did,” he muttered, not letting any tone of harshness escape him.

Cas huffed a light breath and nodded in understanding. He closed his eyes as he lowered his head to the floor, waiting for Dean to continue as if he was preparing himself to hear words he didn’t want to hear.

Instead, Dean leaned in and kissed him on the side of his head. “But you know what? So did I.”

Dean watched him go in shock for a few moments. Cas widened his eyes a little at the floor and lifted his head up to look at Dean. His eyes were then weary as he shook his head lightly.

“How could you  _possibly_ say that?” Cas breathed out.

“We all make mistakes, Cas. You do, I do. Hell, I’ve done tons of stupid things before I even met you, but they don’t matter now. What’s done is done and can’t be undone. I can’t undo the things I said to you that day, no matter how many times I say I didn’t mean it. I mean yeah, you got me confused and fucked and stuff but I  _never_ meant it when I said you pushed me into this,” Dean said back.

Cas pressed his lips together tightly and wiped his face as he looked away. “I don’t deserve you, Dean, I can’t—”

“I’ve always thought it the other way around,” Dean remarked, shrugging. He waited a few moments before adding, “But I guess we’re both a couple of shitheads.”

Cas laughed anyway through the tears brimming at his eyes. “A couple of shitheads who can’t seem to  _ever_  get away from each other, huh?” he added.

“That sounds just about right,” Dean said, raising a thumb to wipe a small tear that had rolled down shamefully down Cas’ cheekbone.

Cas leaned into Dean’s touch and clasped a hand over Dean’s, brushing his thumb around the inner palm of Dean’s hand. Cas eyed him sadly as he let go. “I believe I have to tell you something.”

Dean momentarily flickered his eyes to their hands, now back on their own laps disappointedly. “Okay, what?” he asked with a hint of worry in his tone.

Cas sighed. “I think you noticed. Crowley mentioned someone who was important to me; his name was Balthazar.”

Dean recalled Cas’ change of expression when that name was said, but he mostly planned on asking some other time about it. “Yeah.”

“Dean, I’ve never really explained to you how I got into hunting.”

 

* * *

  ~~~~

**SEPTEMBER, 2012**

“Are you serious? We’re watching _Titanic_ , on post-breakup movie night? Do you both hate me that much?”

“Quit complaining, you need to laugh sometime,” Cas retorted as he made his way to the couch to join his moody friend.

Balthazar’s voice slurred slightly. “I’m not even that sad, I just said I’ll miss the sex with her! She was _good_.” He zoomed out for a moment, nodding at his own sentence before pulling himself back. “But really, if you want to make me laugh or cry so bad, you should just play one of your space documentaries, they make me do both.”

Cas shook his head and sighed softly at his friend’s words. “You’re going to need a few more drinks, my friend. It’s tradition.”

“Already on it!” Gabriel called from the kitchen.

“And more caramel for the popcorn, tiny bit of salt plus the churros I bought earlier!” Balthazar called back.

“Not your waiter!”

Balthazar grunted, letting his head fall momentarily back to the cushion before he got up and strolled briskly to the kitchen. “I’m miserable from having my heart broken, I deserve good snacks!”

Cas silently shuffled through the pile of DVDs in his hands while a muffled conversation between his brother and best friend carried on in the kitchen. It was already their third time having post-breakup movie night that month. The first time was on the night Cas’ two-week relationship ended, in which Cas himself broke it off as his former partner turned out to be a misogynistic, close-minded dick. He wasn’t too upset about it, said it wasn’t going anywhere anyway, but Balthazar and Gabriel’s over-efforts in cheering him up had annoyed him to the maximum, so he gave in anyway.

As for Gabriel’s following breakup from a relationship that lasted three days, nobody questioned it when he came into the house with a lopsided grin playing on his mouth.

_“Hey, fellas! Looks like it’s movie night.”_

_“Sorry- who were you even with?”_

Balthazar’s open relationship with a young woman had recently ended after a couple of months. According to Balthazar, they had sex at least five times a week, in which to Cas responded with, “I did not need to know that at all.”

Cas whipped his head up from the narrowed down DVDs when the doorbell rang. He headed to the door and swung it open, meeting an elderly man who wore a red delivery uniform.

“Pizza,” the man mumbled softly. His expression was blank as he kept his eyes on Castiel and nowhere else.

Cas darted his eyes to the pizza box and shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry, we didn’t order one. Wrong address, perhaps?”

The man shook his head and wagged his index finger in front of him. He picked up the note that lay uselessly on the box and read it aloud. “No no, it says here; this pizza is a gift to Gabriel and Castiel Novak. Condolences for your soon-to-be dead friend.”

Castiel could barely say a word or much less _breathe_ before he was suddenly thrown hard against a wall, knocking him out completely.

He gained back consciousness after what seemed like ten minutes later. His head hurt as he sat up, painfully lifting his eyelids open at the bright light that filled the room. He gasped as his eyes fixated on his surroundings. Most of the furniture were turned over with sheds of glass scattered up and down around him. He scanned the room, panting as he was taken aback by the disastrous sight before him.

It was only a matter of seconds before he froze at the sight of Gabriel, hunched and crossed legged on the floor across the room. Gabriel’s hand was sunken into his face, fingers pressing hardly against his temples as his mouth shaped into a distressed frown. In front of him lay a person, still and wounded at the chest.

Cas’ eyes filled with horror as he looked over to the person’s clothes. Pants, shirt, shoes; all of it was highly, painfully familiar.

_“Condolences for your soon-to-be dead friend.”_

Cas sat in shock as he recalled what had happened before. “No,” he whispered. “No, this isn’t happening.”

His whole body shook as he got up, stumbling slightly when he shuffled his feet across the room. He sunk to his knees as he caught sight of Balthazar’s unconscious body on the ground beneath him. Gabriel remained in his position, not bothering to look up at his brother to explain anything.

“Balthazar,” Cas called out softly.

No response.

“Balthazar,” he repeated, cracking his voice at the first syllable. He reached his trembling hands forward and helplessly shook him by the arm. “Balthazar, _get up_!” He swallowed the lump in his throat, breathing heavily as he stared hopelessly at his friend’s body.

Gabriel let out a wet sigh before finally looking up in defeat. Cas hadn’t averted his view from the colossal amount of red that stained the middle of Balthazar’s V-neck. “He’s gone, Cas,” Gabriel mumbled.

Cas shook his head. “No, he can’t be gone. What are you talking about? He’s _Balthazar_ , damn it, he can’t be—”

“Cas.” Gabriel clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder to cut him off, squeezing it gently as he remotely looked him in the eyes. Cas clenched his jaw and internally pleaded for Gabriel not to say it. Gabriel lightly shook his head at him in response.

Neither of them said anything for a while, but that night was the first time Cas had given in on playing the role of a younger brother.

 

* * *

 

“We called the police, said there’d been a robbery and a murder at our place. Then, well… Gabriel told me the reason he had been so distant the few months before that. He got into hunting,” Cas explained.

“Wait, your brother was a hunter _before_ you _?_ ” Dean questioned.

Cas nodded. “Yeah. He had an encounter with a demon who happened to mention our parents. When he told me, I was a little conflicted, obviously. I said I wasn’t in the mood for jokes, swore a little, then I figured he was actually serious about- everything. He said that the man who killed him had black eyes.

“So I- I asked if I could join him. He said no, clearly, but I was so, so messed up, Dean, I convinced him to let me. He taught me a few things, and I was a fast learner. We did hunt together for about, a week. He couldn’t take me, I couldn’t take him, we fought at almost everything, and bringing Balthazar into the topic was the end of every argument.

“Then we just… parted ways. It was difficult at first; adapting myself. But I did, so. Big bravo to me,” he storied, ending the last sentence with a tone of sarcasm and melancholy at the same time.

Dean sat in silence, taking in every word Cas said as something that actually happened to him almost a year and a half ago. Dean didn’t often picture a normal-living, late-twenties Cas, working or studying for a paying job, with plenty of hobbies he had to occupy the weekends. Cas probably had a party of friends Balthazar introduced him to; if friends counted as people he awkwardly made conversations with at mutually invited events. Cas was going to be a professor or an _astronomer,_ Dean remembered.

“I’m sorry all of that happened to you,” Dean managed to say, gently to not startle him.

“Don’t be.”

“What?”

“Dean, I can’t have the people I love die, because of me, or _for_ me again. And that includes you. If- if _anything_ were to happen to you, I’d... I don’t know what I'd do,” Cas admitted. He looked down at his hands when he said this, massaging them softly as he did so.

Dean sighed and took Cas’ face in his hands, forcing them to make eye contact. “Hey. Look at me, hey. I’m fine, and I’m not going anywhere. Nothing’s gonna happen to me, or you, I’m not lettin’ it.”

Cas nodded understandingly and leered his eyes down to Dean’s lips. He moved forward and cupped Dean’s face the same way before he pressed his lips together with Dean’s. Dean leaned into it immediately, desperately, inhaling through his nose to catch a breath. A small sound came out of Cas into the affectionate kiss, almost sounding pained from having to pull himself away from thoughts like this for the past few days.

They pulled away eventually to breathe, panting shortly into each other’s faces. “God damn, I missed that,” Dean muttered.

Cas smiled and moved his hand from the back of Dean’s neck to his face. “I want you to know that you mean the world to me. And that I’m sorry for how I acted. And I’ll never do that again.”

“Yeah. I know,” Dean said.

"Dean."

"Yeah?"

"I love you," Cas said.

Dean smiled up at him. "Yeah, you made it pretty obvious, huh?"

"So..."

"Yeah, Cas. Yeah, same here."

Cas smirked and let go, moving his eyes away to go in thought. “Well, enough of this then. We’ve got a demon- son of a bitch- ass to kill.”

“Demon son of a bitch ass, yeah, that’s a good try.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i... might have changed something at the end of chapter four, which affects this chapter as well, so i'm so sorry to anyone who's read this from the beginning! so sorry. future chapters will be up soon!


	6. Marching Band - Part 1

_***_

_It's me and you against the world now_

_Take my hand, let's find a marching band_

_That beats the rhythm of our hearts_

_***_

The lights in Harvelle’s Roadhouse radiated in a certain way that made the setting look cozy and comfortable. Other than that, a mix of snickering and chatter erupted from where Cas and Jo stood side by side with beer bottles in their hands. Somewhere in the middle, Bobby swore a lot with unrecognized words as Ellen continued to beat him in blackjack, even with a couple of shots of whiskey in her system. Apparently he wasn’t the best at the game after all.

“Alright Singer, lose this round and you’re making everyone here a high-class breakfast tomorrow.”

“You lose, you’re cooking.”

Dean smiled in amusement at Bobby’s determination before stepping away from the table. He moved his eyes to another spot at the bar table, where Sam sat alone, staring at his laptop with a pensive look on his face. Dean grabbed two cans and made his way to his brother. Sam noticed his presence immediately, momentarily looking up at him. He then moved his hand to the keyboard, pressed two keys and closed a window he seemed to be staring at blankly before, clearing his throat a bit.

Dean held out a can for him and looked at him suspiciously as Sam shut the laptop in front of him. Sam willingly took it, muttering a thanks before Dean could say anything. They popped their cans open at the same time, Sam a little more harsh than normal.

Dean questioningly glanced at him as he pulled out a seat. “You good?” he asked.

Sam huffed lightly at the space in front of him and shook his head. “I don’t know, I guess.”

“Is this about- Jessica?” Dean asked.

“No. I mean _yeah_ , but not just that. I was just thinking- about some stuff,” said Sam. He stole another glance at the cover of the laptop again, probably thinking Dean wouldn’t notice.

Dean rolled his eyes, gesturing his hands at the object. “Okay, dude, if you’re so intent on watching your porn, don’t do it here.”

“I _wasn’t_ doing anything like that, I was—” Sam halted. Dean looked back at him curiously as Sam’s mood changed. He let him finish as Sam took a breath. “I was looking at scholarships,” Sam confided.

It’s the second time Dean’s heard that sentence come from Sam. The first time had been when Sam looked more than troubled on the night after his high school graduation. Dean remembered the mixed emotions written on Sam’s face when he said it; a diversity of sadness, guilt, and a sort of relief to get it off his chest.

“Oh,” is all Dean responded with softly.

“I know, it’s just- I broke my leg, right, was laid out for three to four months. It was- _frustrating_ and I hated not being able to do anything physically productive for that long. But when I took my time off hunting, I- I did a lot of reading, instead. And for a while, I thought… this could be my way out,” Sam explained.

Dean nodded as he stayed silent, looking at his own hands on the table.

“It’s what I’ve wanted to do for a while now, and I figured if we’re going to kill the thing that killed Mom and Dad and Jessica tomorrow, maybe it’d be my last mission. But- if you and Bobby don’t want me to, I get it, it’s just—”

“What are you talking about?” Dean interrupted, scrunching up his face. “I want you to go be someone. You’ve got the way out, Sammy, all you have to do is go to it. Go live your life, whether it’ll take scholarships or- whatever.”

Sam paused and stayed silent for a good ten seconds. He started shaking his head in confusion. “But- what about you? I can’t just leave. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to stick with it permanently,” said Sam. “And the chances of getting a scholarship at this age-”

“Not much, yeah. But you know, you’ve got what it takes,” Dean said. Sam looked down at himself in thought as he tried to find points to reply with. “And hey, don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. It’s not like you’re the only one who saves my life at the last minute.”

Sam still looked hesitant to agree, and later with a smirk he replied, “Yeah, I guess I’m not.” He motioned his eyes to Cas for Dean to do the same. Dean turned around.

Cas was laughing about something with Jo, who then caught Dean staring. She muttered something to Cas, something that looked like, “He’s looking” before looking away. Cas peered at him from the distance and showed him a shy smile.

“You don’t think he heard us, do you?” Dean heard Cas mumble.

Dean looked at the both of them quizzically as Jo tried to suppress another smile. Sam noticed as well and chuckled lightly beside him.

“Looks like they’re bitching about you.”

“Aw, man. Cas’ got some dirt on me, but Jo’s definitely seen the worst,” Dean said with a sigh.

Sam took a sip from his can and then placed in firmly on the table in front of him. “Can I just say something that I’ll never have to say again?” he asked.

“Yeah, shoot.”

“I’m glad you’re with him,” Sam admitted. “No matter how _wacky_ or weirdly planned it was for you two to meet.”

Dean raised his eyebrows at the sudden change of topic and thought up for a witty comeback. He looked to Cas instead, who had the biggest grin on his face as looked like he was telling a story to Jo. Dean smiled and replied, “Yeah, me too.”

“ _Aw_.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

++

From where Cas stood, he glanced _another_ time at Dean that night. It had probably been the eighth time he’d done so without getting caught by Jo. Dean stood up from his seat, clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder as Sam plastered a thankful smile. Dean turned from him, a thin beam worn on his face that seemed to wipe off immediately afterwards. Cas would probably question him about it later.

Dean walked toward them with a hand wrapped tightly around a can. “Hey. You two having fun, bitching about me?” he greeted with a newly goofy smile.

Cas shook his head lightly as he retorted, “We weren’t-”

“Yeah, if bitching has anything to do with talking about how you two met the first time. Cas said you looked like you were about to jump out of your skin, just speaking to him,” Jo said.

Dean laughed. “Oh, yeah? He didn’t happen to mention how nervous he looked just to ask for a ride? And the amount of times he’s showed off his dozen talents to impress me?”

_“Hey,_ I wasn’t-”

“You know, when he stayed with us here, he didn’t stop talking about you the morning after your visit,” Jo contributed.

Great, Cas thought, now it’s a night for everyone to gang up on him one by one. Cas flustered and couldn’t help but break into a grin anyway.

Dean smiled and peered a mischievous look in his eyes at Cas. “Really?”

“Yeah, he accidentally lost your number somehow so I gave it to him, but by that time he said it was way too late to reply back. God, such a teenager for a thirty-year old man—”

Cas interjected at the false indication. “Hey, I’m _not_ thirty yet! Not in another seven months.”

“Whatever, your crush was _massive_ ,” Jo teased.

“Was _not_ ,” Cas said back.

“Jo, a little help here!” Ash called from the back. Jo whipped her head up at the call of her name and muttered, “Probably needs help with the drink machine.” She excused herself and moved past the both of them, leaving the two alone.

“Traitor,” Cas mumbled to her. Jo smirked back as she eyed the both of them one by one. Dean expectantly looked over to Cas, who peered back up at him shyly.

“If it helps, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t the tiniest bit upset that you never bothered with replying a second time,” Dean said.

Cas smiled, instantly relaxing next to him as he leaned against the table. “Yeah? Did you think I was a douche?”

“Nah, I just figured you weren’t interested,” Dean answered back with a shrug of the shoulders, before taking another chug from his can.

“At least now you know that’s not true.”

They stood next to each other comfortably with no words spoken, watching Ellen and Bobby make continuous bets at each round of blackjack. Dean and him seemed to have leaned into each other tiredly after a few good minutes of nothing, arms gently brushing and weighing against one another. Cas then noticed Sam’s absence, and he figured Dean did too. A thought clicked to his mind.

“You and Sam, are you two alright?” Cas asked, breaking the silence with a hushed voice.

Dean paused as he looked to the ground. “Yeah, we are,” he finally said. “Really. I’ll tell you about it some other time.” Before Cas could further discuss it, Dean carried on, “What about you, you okay?”

“Me? I’ve been much worse,” Cas replied. “I’m just relieved.”

“Of what?”

Cas knew Dean knew the answer to that, but he answered anyway, “To have you with me.”

He watched as Dean pulled up a corner of his mouth knowingly, shifting his body to face him. “Yeah, me too,” Dean uttered, reaching his hands forward to brush gently against Cas’. “You wanna go to bed?” he asked.

Cas nodded with an exasperated sigh. “More than anything.”

Dean acknowledged it and led the way, moving past Ellen, Bobby, Ash and Jo. “We’re heading off to bed. Bobby, don’t drink too much,” he announced.

“Don’t tell me what to do, princess,” Bobby interjected.

Ellen stopped them by placing a hand on Dean’s arm urgently. She glanced up seriously at the both of them, eyeing them one by one as she noted, “You boys even think about messing up my sheets tonight—”

“Ah- we get it, you’ll uh, have us gunned down in our sleep,” said Dean, following with a nervous laugh. “We can’t- really do anything with Sam in the room, anyway,” Dean carried on, earning a continuous glare from Ellen. Cas suppressed a laugh, as did Jo and Ash.

“We have your word, ma’am,” Cas added, nodding understandingly.

Ellen smugly smiled back at them, cutting the tension as she turned away. Dean let out a sigh of relief as they were out of sight and walked to their temporary room, making Cas catch up to him from behind.

“You’ve come face-to-face with about every kind of monster, and older women make you nervous,” Cas teased.

“Shut up, she scares the life out of me.”

++

Sam took the single bed in the room, seemingly to have completely dozed off, leaving Dean and Cas to sleep on the queen-sized mattress on the floor. Dean cheekily watched as Cas changed into his sleeping attire and pulled him down by the hand when he was done.

Cas let out an actual _giggle_ as he fell right next to him, having Dean hush him and motion to a sleeping Sam. “ _Exactly_ , your brother is in the room,” Cas whispered.

“So? He’s asleep,” Dean said.

“Dean.”

Dean sighed. “Alright, fine. But, when all this is over—”

“I’ll fuck you _senseless_ ,” Cas answered firmly for him.

“ _Oh my God,_ if you two even think about doing it tonight, I’m telling Ellen,” Sam called out from above. He rolled over and covered his ears with his pillow in a childish manner.

“We weren’t going to!” Dean hissed back. He turned his attention back to Cas who was blushing madly at what Sam heard, and winked. “To add to your statement, yes you will,” Dean whispered and sighed tiredly. “Alright, I think Ellen might actually start shooting if we don’t sleep now.”

Cas hummed in agreement and rolled over on the mattress, giving Dean some space. Dean stared at the back of his head blankly as his eyelids started to droop. He could tell Cas wasn’t asleep yet, given his body wasn’t relaxed or in any way pushed up against Dean’s.

“Cas, promise me something,” Dean murmured against his neck, shifting closer.

“Hm, what?” Cas replied.

“Tomorrow… don’t forget to take care of yourself. Don’t do anything- anything stupid,” Dean affirmed.

Cas stayed quiet for a second or two before replying, his back still facing Dean. “Do you define stupid as life-threatening and exposing myself to demonic forces?”

“Yeah, that.”

Dean shot his heavy eyelids up as Cas turned around to face him. “I’m not gonna do anything stupid, as long as you don’t do anything stupid,” Cas said back. Dean watched him and tried to figure how to reply to that. Before Dean could say anything, Cas leaned in, cupping the side of Dean’s face tenderly. He brought his lips to Dean’s cheekbone, kissing it briefly before kissing him once again on the mouth.

“Please don’t do anything stupid,” Cas repeated another time in a hushed tone.

Dean sighed against him and brought his arm forward, wrapping it around Cas’ shoulders, pulling him in. “I won’t,” he assured. He said it again after that, lifting his head up slightly to let his chin rest on Cas’ head.

Dean relaxed soon after, and just as he was about to let sleep take over, Cas mumbled something against his chest.

“Dean, this is too tight, I can’t breathe.”

++

Cas woke up to droplets of water sprinkled on his face, followed by a familiar, disgruntled groan that came from his shoulder. He flinched his head away as he blinked his eyes open and put a hand over his face quickly.

“Jeez Bobby, you couldn’t be more civil,” Dean said groggily as he sat up from the mattress.

“Well, Sam didn’t have the heart to tear you two apart. Who would?” Bobby remarked. “It’s almost nine. Get up and get ready, ya idjits. Breakfast is on me,” he continued with a sigh as he left the room.

Cas sighed and rolled over on his stomach anyway, burying his head into the face of the pillow as he relaxed his body.

Dean nudged him by the shoulder. “Hey, sleeping beauty. Wake up.”

“I appreciate your gentleness,” Cas said into the pillow. He turned on his back and sat up straight, rubbing the back of his neck to massage away the strain. “Is it really a day to be fighting demons?” he asked.

“Afraid so, sunshine. C’mon, don’t make me water your face too.”

++

It took a few moments before Dean could snap away from his thoughtless daydreaming. He stared into the space of the blue sky above him, noticing the less amount of clouds from the day before. The area around him filled a lighter shade than the usual sky blue, somehow more calming to view. Cas glanced at him concernedly from his side, in a way Dean recognized; as if Cas was asking if he was okay by just lifting his eyelids slightly.

“I’m fine,” Dean said to him, and later softly sighed. “Just thought it looked like a nice day today. Sure doesn’t seem like a day for battle.”

Cas nodded in understanding, and looked up to view their surroundings as well. “Yes, it is a pretty morning.”

Dean almost laughed aloud, because there they were, ready to take separate vehicles before they go fight a possibly high amount of demons, and all they had talked about so far that day was the _weather_. Not that Dean minded or that it was awkward; being contently quiet with Cas was something Dean had learned to do a long time ago. He thought back, trying to recall when Cas even stepped out of his thickly awkward shell. No certain memory came to mind, so Dean figured that perhaps it just _happened_ , somehow within the good amount of time they spent together as friends.

Friends; hell, Dean didn’t even remember when that stage happened. Their relationship as acquaintances didn’t seem to just flow either. He remembered finding Cas pretty decent looking, for one thing, the first time he met him. The second time, Dean got a better look of his face, and he remembered attempting to actually flirt with the guy as soon as the blood was cleaned off. Cas was hardly receptive to the flirting, not that he was surprised. He remembered the time he met him again at the Roadhouse, the first time seeing him without the presence of a possible supernatural monster. It was really then when he knew who Cas was, and that Cas _could_ be receptive to a little flirting himself.

It was then that Dean realized all the tiny, but real, ‘moments’ they shared had begun when they worked about two or three cases in. Dean could’ve sworn they’d have had sex right then and there on the coffee table in that mouldy motel room, if it wasn’t for the screaming victim nearby that grabbed their attention like rabbits in the headlights. It had seemed like a mild case that day, consequently letting them sit back and actually talk like real friends. They had laughed a lot, Dean doesn’t remember what about exactly, but possibly the subject of the pets Cas owned as a kid came up at some point.

Dean remembered looking forward to hunt with Cas more and more after that. He remembered the shit-eating grin on Sam’s face that he told Sam to wipe off immediately at how enthusiastic he was. Cas was definitely better at hiding his interest with Dean, _at first_. Dean would pretend not to notice when he realized Cas staring from time to time, and he’d do his best to suppress a smile every time he looked back up. There was indeed a time, when they merely laughed their way through research, and ended up finding the solution anyway. They made one hell of a team, but it was almost clear that Alastair and demon business had left their minds for a good while.

“I appreciate you,” Dean said aloud. He put his thoughts to a halt, placing them at the back of his mind to think about at a more appropriate time.

Cas faced him and nodded, a tinge of curiosity present on his face. “I know, why?” he asked.

Dean lightly shook his head, waving a hand as a small gesture. “Nah, just thinking back and stuff. I just- want you to know that I really, do mean it when I say I appreciate you, that’s all.”

“So do I with you, you know that,” Cas replied. Ellen, Jo, Bobby and Sam soon stepped out before they could carry on their conversation. Everyone looked to each other, not really saying anything, but knowing they were ready to leave.

Cas looked a last time at Dean, showing him a light smile. “I’ll see you in a bit,” he uttered, moving his hand forward to stroke an inch of Dean’s. Cas softly laced the fingers together for a couple of seconds before letting go as he turned to make his way to Ellen’s jeep. Dean wondered how such a simple, tiny gesture could feel so intimate and meaningful and leave him smiling back without even realizing.

_Yeah, I’ll see you in a bit_ , Dean thought, _I always do._

++

An hour and half into the drive had Dean pestering Sam on what he’d been scribbling on a small notepad the whole ride. Sam shooed his hand away, called him annoying, which lead to unintelligible banter between the two.

“Quit acting like teenagers on a reality show, would you?” Bobby complained from the back seat.

Dean rolled his eyes and lightly slapped the steering wheel in defeat. He side-peeked at what Sam had in his hand, barely exposing what he’d written. The ride remained quiet for the next couple of minutes. Dean looked to the rear-view mirror every now and then to make sure Ellen’s jeep still followed behind them. The address in Denver, Colorado sent by Crowley had been typed into the navigation app on Sam’s phone. Dean didn’t recognize half of the streets in Nebraska as he drove through.

The silence cut short with a continuous, vibrating buzz. The three of them looked to each other quizzically as nobody picked up a phone.

“Not mine,” Sam said. Bobby shrugged and shook his head. “It sounds closest to you,” he said to Dean.

Dean quirked his eyebrows and began to check his pockets anyway, keeping a hand on the wheel. He popped open the compartment in front of him, reckoning that’s where the buzzing came from. Keeping one hand on the wheel and eyes locked on the road safely enough, he reached out his hand to pick up one of his back-up phones in the compartment.

The caller ID read an unknown number, something that Dean was yet to be surprised about.

“Hello?” Dean answered.

_“Dean Winchester. How’s my favourite hunter doing?”_ a raspy voice replied.

“Fantastic. Who is this?” Dean asked, not bothering to put his finger on whom that familiar voice on the phone belonged to.

_“Surprise.”_

“DEAN!”

“Fucking-” Dean cursed, hitting the brakes as rapidly as possible while his heart felt like it’d just leapt out of his chest. The car’s tyres squealed and skidded to a stop as Dean dropped the phone hard on his own foot in the process.

“HELL!” Dean yelled, hitting the wheel in frustration. Sam had his back fully pressed against his seat with a hand on each side, pinning down his seat as he looked as if he’d just braced himself for an extreme rollercoaster. The three of them took a few seconds to breathe right again.

Crowley stood merely an inch in front of the car, waving a hand while another held a phone to his ear. He smiled casually at them and kept his phone away, placing both hands in his pockets.

“Fucking _hell_ ,” Dean repeatedly cursed in a soft tone, glaring at the demon in front.

“Tell me that’s not who I think it is,” Bobby muttered from the back, looking at Dean with slight concern.

Sam switched glances from them, to Crowley quickly, confusion written all over his face. “What- who is that?”

“Crowley, King of Hell.”

Dean didn’t answer that for him.

Crowley appeared at the back seat next to Bobby, sticking his head out to introduce himself. Dean cursed again. “We haven’t officially met, Sam, but I believe I was the one who arranged that whole djinn mystery at Ames, what did you think of it?” Crowley added.

“Get out of my car!” Dean exclaimed.

Crowley ignored him, turning to Bobby instead. “Bobby Singer, what’s it like being in the same space with these two for more than a minute?”

“Why are you here?” Dean interrogated harshly.

Crowley rolled his eyes and sighed. “Am I not allowed to make conversation just because I’m a demon?”

Before Dean could open his mouth to respond back, a few angry slams of car doors sounded from behind them.

“What the hell was that?” Jo yelled, still a few feet behind.

“Dean, you nearly had us _killed_ -” Cas started, walking up right beside the driver’s window. He paused as he looked into the car, catching the sight of a far too impressed Crowley sharing the back seat.

“Castiel, how do you do?” Crowley asked.

 “That’s it- everyone out of the car.”

++

Cas backed up as Dean got out of the car, along with Sam and Bobby. Ellen and Jo looked just as surprised as he did at the sight of Crowley in the Impala, and probably figured he wasn’t human when he disappeared again.

Cas whipped his head around when he noticed the absence. “Where’d he go?” he asked.

“Right here,” Crowley announced, appearing in front of the car again, making all of them nearly jump in that certain direction.

Dean rolled his eyes and huffed a frustrated sigh. “Okay, you’ve _got_ to stop doing that if you don’t want us to jump out of our own skin. What do you want?”

Crowley darted his eyes to the sky momentarily. “First of, I can’t control much of it. I’ve got what feels like three hours left, and then I’m either powerless, or well- dead.”

“And we should care, why?” Cas asked.

“ _Because_ , you’d probably care a tiny bit for the demon holding your brother’s contract, wouldn’t you?” Crowley said, aiming a smug, yet threatening look at Cas.

Cas glowered at him, and from the corner of his eye he could see Dean slightly shift. “We had a deal.”

“The deal _was_ ; kill Alastair, and then I’ll rip the contract. Therefore, if I’m dead and Alastair isn’t, there really isn’t a deal to begin with. I’ll make sure of that, trust me,” Crowley explained.

Cas bit the inside of his cheek as he looked away, unsure of what safe way there was to respond with. Crowley turned his gaze to everyone else one by one, directing his speech to them, “Plus, if I’m powerless _or_ dead within three hours, none of your safety’s ensured. My followers; I’d say ninety-four percent are loyal, and I can guarantee they’re utterly cruel towards your kind. Who knows what they’ll do to you lot?”

Before Cas could think of his next action, Dean stepped forward. “Yeah, right fine- but how in hell are we supposed to make it to Denver _and_ kill Alastair in three hours when we’re barely out of the state?”

Crowley gaped, a small tug in the corner of his mouth playing as he looked up at the sky again. The easeful, light shade of blue that Dean had Cas take notice of earlier had faded into a dark grey. Cas couldn’t help but notice the shade of the sky getting darker at each second.

“Right- lucky for me, you see, it looks like they got to you first,” Crowley said, pointing up at the sky.

Cas stared up at the trembling sky, clouds of black smoke circling above them and the whole street. It was then that Cas noticed the emptiness surrounding them; rows of shops and stalls, rusty and abandoned with not one pedestrian bothering to pass by.

Dean looked around and probably noticed as well. He angrily turned to Crowley and glared at him. “Where is everyone?” he demanded to know.

The thick, black puffs of smoke shadowing from above them let out a whoosh, spiralling in many directions. Before Crowley could reply, thunder roared and bolts of lightning struck the ground. Crowley looked up and glanced at them, shrugging his shoulders.

“Well- it was great chatting, but I’m afraid that looks like my queue,” Crowley announced, turning to leave. Dean was visibly close to protesting, but stopped when Crowley paused within a step, hesitating before placing his hand into his suit. He brought out what looked like an ancient revolver gun and held it in front of him.

“Balls.” The voice came from Bobby, who stared at the gun, absolutely dumbstruck.

“What is that?” Cas asked.

Crowley looked up at the sky again, and rushed, “I believe Bobby here, can fill you in on that. I’ve only managed to get _six_ of its original bullets. Don’t waste, and good luck.”

Dean protested before Crowley finished the last syllable of his sentence. “So what, the King of Hell’s just gonna run and hide until all this is over? You’re leaving all of _that_ to us, and you’re not gonna make an effort in destroying your own enemy?”

Crowley looked almost taken aback by Dean’s words. He laughed. “And where do you think I’m leaving off to? I said I was powerless against Alastair, I didn’t say anything about not being able to kill his followers. There are, in fact, some still on their way and I can stop them!” he exclaimed over the loud atmosphere just gathering in.

Cas exchanged a quick confused look with Dean, unsure of where this whole thing was headed. The huge gathering of black smoke in the sky started to lessen by the second, and it was clear that everyone had barely noticed where the smoke travelled. The sky stayed grey and cloudy even after all the smoke had cleared. The thunder had definitely eased down, and the lightning had stopped abruptly.

“On your marks,” Crowley spoke. He placed the revolver carefully on the hood of the Impala and turned to the six of them. “Get set.” Ellen was the first to back up and realize what was about to happen. Eventually they all got it, and rummaged for the weapons in the cars. Cas grabbed hold of the demon knife, just as they planned days before, and reached further for his rifle. Everyone had their own rounds of holy water, salt, and iron. He watched as Dean grabbed the revolver gun on the hood and listened to Bobby explain about it in a rush. Cas might have heard Bobby calling it ‘The Colt’ or some sort, and Dean responded to his explaining dumbstruck as well.

_“Go.”_

Crowley vanished, and a creepy silence took over. Cas turned when Jo pointed out one corner of the road where an abandoned candy shop sat at. At the corner stood a woman, brunette and probably in her late forties. Her face showed no emotion, it was almost creepy and distracting, yet with the vibe coming from her even in the distance, Cas guessed that the real woman in that body had been long gone. His guess was confirmed when she cocked her head to their direction and let her eyes turn pitch black.

About a dozen more people appeared around them, each one turning their chins to reveal darkness in their pair of eyes. Cas breathed in sharply as he rotated to look more around them, and finally noticed Dean standing by his side with his own gun ready.

“What was that thing Crowley had?” Cas asked quietly.

“It can be used to kill Alastair for good, if the knife doesn’t work. The Colt can kill anything, even demons, with one shot. I’ve got it with me,” Dean explained quickly as well, flickering his eyes towards the demons surrounding them. “Why haven’t they attacked yet?” Dean wondered aloud.

“Alastair’s probably not here yet. And I suppose he wants to kill us himself,” Cas replied.

“Well, that’s assuring.”

Cas exhaled a piercing breath. “Dean, I’m sorry for all of this.”

“Cas-”

“I got us all into this, and now with Crowley, everyone’s safety-”

“Cas!” Dean hissed, momentarily turning his attention away from the quiet demons. Cas shut himself up. “Look, now’s not the time for apologizing about stuff you can’t do anything about,” he harshly whispered. Cas swallowed hesitantly, discomfort holding his chest down. From the corner of his eye he could see Dean’s face soften, and at his side, Dean dropped his hand down to lace their fingers together gently, mimicking Cas’ gesture from before.

“Remember the plan, Cas. We’re all waiting for your queue,” Dean said nervously. Cas’ nerves had got the best of him at that point. The other five were waiting for the signal, and Cas couldn’t help but wonder how everything would go to plan smoothly without a slip. What if that one slip leads to another, and another? What if they lost, with just six blows to their heads? What if this, was the last time the six of them were together, and it was all Cas’ selfish reasons to blame?

Dean tightened, then loosened their grip of hands and hitched a breath, his voice trembling as he murmured,

“I _promise_ , I’ll see you in a bit.”

Cas shortly sighed and brought his own hand back up to his gun. With that, he aimed at the sky and finally took a shot. The demons charged at them, Dean was no longer by his side, and the war began.


	7. Marching Band - Part 2

_***_

_We're the fire, the flames_

_They can't put out our faith like oxygen_

_So breathe it in, be with me now_

_It's us against the world_

_Try stopping us now_

_***_

It wasn’t much of the bloodbath Dean pictured it would be; at least not yet. Dean had already taken care of three demons, with Sam next to him helping him exorcise as he used the holy water, salt rounds; whatever he had with him to slow them down. As the third possessed person collapsed onto the ground after Sam’s reciting of exorcism, Dean checked for a pulse. With a pang of guilt aching at his chest, he sighed. He swallowed hesitantly and turned to his brother, shaking his head. Sam slumped his shoulders and let his expression drop for the second time. Dean reminded him they had to move on, and that those people were probably dead before they had the chance to save them. However, he never managed to tell himself that.

Dean shook Sam’s shoulders to get him back on track, and hurriedly caught up. While running, he caught a glimpse of Cas from a distance being pinned down at the neck by a demon, wearing the meatsuit of an old lady. Dean stopped, and before he could process to run to his direction, the demon’s back met with a knife, causing Cas to slip back to the ground. Jo held the demon knife in her hands, and Dean reckoned she probably picked it up from the ground when Cas might have dropped it. Even from afar he could see a rush of guilt swarm her eyes, staring helplessly at the lifeless body of the old lady. She helped Cas get up and passed the knife back to him quickly. She hurriedly moved past him before Cas could finish assuring her.

His and Cas’ eyes met. They communicated silently with a stare, and Cas nodded at him in assurance that he was okay.

“Dean!” Sam called. He was already ahead of him without Dean realizing.

Dean snapped his attention away immediately and headed towards where Sam stood, suspiciously looking around them.

“That can’t be it, right?” Sam asked.

Dean studied the area and looked behind them, where Cas, Jo, Ellen and Bobby were, and they looked unoccupied as well. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Crowley said there were more on their way, and that he’d take care of them.”

“Yeah, but- he could barely control where he _moved_. You really think he could take out all of them? Where is Alastair anyway?” Sam mentioned.

Alastair’s whereabouts became a thought that lingered in Dean’s mind. “No clue, but him and Crowley coming face-to-face, that idea doesn’t sound so good.”

“Of course it’s not,” an unfamiliar voice appeared. In front of them stood a brunette female in her mid-twenties, wearing a waitress uniform with a nametag on it. It read ‘MEG’. “I mean, have you seen those two? They’re worse than an old divorced couple!” she added.

Dean shuffled his feet to turn to her. “I’m guessing you’re one of Alastair’s?”

The girl known as Meg, scoffed. “What, like I’m his bitch?” she laughed, facing down. She looked back up with dark eyes. “ _Please,_ I know hell of a lot better than that!”

Dean scowled at her tone, and felt the air around him shift uncomfortably. “Why are you here then?” Sam asked. From behind he could hear the footsteps of Cas, Jo, Ellen and Bobby fill in closer.

Meg smiled at him. “Made a deal. At the end of the day, I get a prize. But only if…” she trailed off and cocked her head to the side, staring behind them. “I kill the ones he doesn’t want.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean questioned.

Meg shrugged. “I was told not to kill _you_ ,” she said, aiming at Dean. She turned her gaze to Sam. “Your brother,” she added. Finally, she smugly grinned at Cas standing behind, showing a little wave. “And your boyfriend.”

“So-”

“The rest of them die by my hands, you die by Alastair’s. I get my prize,” Meg finalized in a deadpan manner, cutting Dean off. She smiled at him.

Dean smirked. “I don’t care what he’s got in store for you, but you think it’s that easy? You think somehow, you’re gonna try get past us without killing us?”

Dean shouldn’t have spoken too soon.

It’s a matter of seconds before he realized he was _flying,_ backwards, as he presumed, and landed straight in a bundle of empty trash cans. He groaned, earning a sharp and throbbing pain at the back of his head. He heard Sam call out his name, and from a closer distance, Cas too. His blurry vision started to swim as the sound of two others pounding to the ground from a distance filled his ears. He shot his eyelids up and pushed himself to get an image of what was going on as Meg’s voice echoed.

“You _really_ shouldn’t underestimate us black-eyed demons.”

Dean made a quiet aching sound as he attempted to get up. He stumbled back slightly against the trash cans, grumbling a curse at her direction. As his eyes and mind felt close to half right, he caught a glimpse of Cas on the other side of the street, still metres away from him, hunched against a wall and a second away from passing out. He watched as Cas weakly slid the demon knife towards Jo, an arm’s length away from her, in which she picked up immediately. Jo, Ellen and Bobby talked quickly among themselves, facing Meg, who walked with a sly smile on her face towards them.

Dean’s eyes travelled elsewhere when there was an unfamiliar presence at the corner of his eyes. He squinted at the figure to get a better view. Five yards into the alley stood an older man, possibly in his late forties with an intimidating vibe. He didn’t smile or frown, but the thin line formed on his mouth caused an unsettling feeling in Dean’s stomach. With a flash of pale white eyes, the man disappeared from sight.

Dean sat up, an ache still running through his body, but he tried to care less on that. He didn’t like the guess on who that man or demon was.

It was only a matter of seconds before the light-headedness took over by a mile and had him knocking to the ground again.

++

Jo stared at the knife she held in her hands, inhaling a sharp breath. She swallowed nervously and glanced at Cas, who looked pale as a ghost in the unusual lighting. Cas nodded at her, in what way she thought was assurance, or at least hoped it was.

Sam, who wasn’t far away as Dean, got back up and scurried his way to Cas. He helped him up and turned to Meg, glaring at her as he got hold of his gun.

Jo momentarily turned her head to where Dean was, unconscious on the ground near an alley that had to be at least five metres away from them.

“Dean. Guys, Dean.” Jo pointed out.

Cas’ face went even paler when he whipped his head around and saw Dean behind them, if to say possible. He switched a look from Dean, to Sam, then to Meg. Meg seemed like she was actually waiting for them to leave, standing there with her hands in her pockets as she let a smirk creep onto her face that never left.

“We’ll take care of her, you and Sam get to Dean,” Ellen ordered.

Cas frowned. “But-”

“We got this,” Bobby insisted. “ _Go.”_

Cas turned to Sam, and with a look of slight approval, they gave in.

“Stay safe,” Sam assured the rest, right before fleeing to Dean’s direction with Cas next to him.

Jo sighed and turned back to Meg, gun by her side and the demon knife gripped tight in her hand.

“Finally, I thought they’d never leave! Is this some little plan you’re following?” Meg chimed. Jo accidentally caught her gaze, and looked away before she could see the corner of her mouth move upwards.

She backed up to her mother’s side, and said in a low voice, “What if I told you I considered going back to school?”

Ellen stayed quiet for a while, but at some point Jo could feel her eyes on her. “Then I’m on board with ya,” she finally said, reaching for her own salt rounds. “We’ll talk later. Right now, we’ve got a demon to handle.”

++

Cas swallowed thickly as he laid eyes on Dean. Dean had been thrown forcefully from a much lengthy distance than him and Sam, and the impact was hard enough to leave him knocked out. Cas darted towards him and knelt to the ground.

“Dean?”

Fortunately, Dean’s eyes were already fluttering open; barely, but it was better than him being completely unconscious at the moment. Cas breathed a sigh in relief and cupped his face on two sides, hovering forward to meet his eyes while Dean made a tiny disgruntled sound.

“Hey, hey. Dean,” Cas softly murmured.

Dean blinked many times to get his eyes to open completely and met Cas’ worried gaze. Cas let go of his face and moved a hand to his arm instead, balancing him as Dean attempted to sit up.

Dean groaned as he sat up, rubbing the ache on his middle back, then his head. “Please tell me that bitch is dead.”

Cas turned to look behind them, where Meg was almost being cornered by the rest. She still wore a sly smirk on her face. He sighed and turned back to Dean. “They’re working on it. Are you- okay enough to stand up?”

“I’m not an old man, Cas,” Dean grunted, rolling his eyes as he pushed himself off the ground. He let Cas’ hand stay where it was anyway before Cas eventually let go.

Dean paused. His gaze set elsewhere; along the alley they stood right next to. An uncomfortable silence fell among them as Dean stared into that particular space with his lips parted, eyes expressing a mixture of confusion and wonder.

“Dean, what is it?” Sam asked, breaking the silence.

Dean took a moment before he swivelled his head back to them, switching glances between the two. “I saw him. Right before I dropped, I saw him,” he said.

Cas and Sam waited for him to continue, not really finding any clarity in Dean’s statement.

“Alastair.”

Sam responded first, “What? How do you-”

“I just know, okay? He was- standing there looking at me, his eyes went freaking _white_ , and he vanished. He’s like, wearing some forty year old politician,” Dean explained.

Cas stitched his eyebrows together in confusion. “White eyes?” he asked, feeling a bit clueless for someone who’s on a mission to kill demons.

“Yeah,” Dean said, and sighed shortly. “White-eyed. And according to lore, they’re the highest-ranking class of demons.”

Cas felt his stomach slightly drop when Dean finished his sentence. “That’s- wonderful,” he sarcastically muttered.

“Okay, so what now?” Sam asked. He looked around them before he could get an answer, and confusion was clear on his face. “I don’t get it, though, besides the waitress that can’t be _all_ of Alastair’s, right?”

“They could be in hiding,” Dean said and studied the area across the street. “I don’t know, something about creepy abandoned places seems to attract them.”

Cas thought back to the first time him and Dean went on the mission to find Alastair in Minneapolis. It was stupid of them to go into that abandoned building; unplanned, careless, and the events that took place still managed to haunt Cas at bad times. The last thing he remembered was taking a separate path from Dean, and by chance, the silver pentagram pendant around his neck had been yanked off.

He remembered screaming when the demon had taken over his body, his own soul pounding with all the internalized hurt gradually building. He remembered putting up a fight, and hearing a maniacal cackle in his own voice as he himself slowly came closer to giving up. There was a moment when he had managed to overcome the possession, but it had only lasted not longer than two seconds, and Dean hadn’t even been there to see it. He never found it necessary to share that with Dean anyway.

Cas sighed and shook the memories away. Not this time, Cas thought. He faced Dean.

“I’ll head down the alley and see if I can find anything, or anyone,” Cas said.

Dean raised his eyebrows and frowned. “What, _alone_?”

“Yes,” Cas affirmed.

“You’re saying, you’re gonna go down that long, dark and potentially dangerous, abandoned alley by yourself? What the hell are we supposed to do, hang back?”

“God, Dean- I don’t know, maybe you and Sam could search somewhere else while I look further into this. Doesn’t that make sense?” Cas questioned, his tone escalating all over the place.

Dean rolled his eyes. “No, as a matter of fact, it doesn’t-”

Cas cut him off, crossing his arms against his waist. “What’s your problem then?”

Dean swallowed hesitantly, drifting his gaze away from Cas. “It’s just- not safe for you.”

“After all this time, do you really not have any faith in me?” Cas asked, lowering his voice.

“I didn’t say that! God, you always have your way with twisting the subject,” Dean said. Cas began to protest, but Dean cut him off with a wave of a hand. “I’m just saying, we all kinda agreed that nobody goes alone.”

Cas sighed. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Dean hesitated for a few seconds before finally giving in. “Okay. Here, if you’re gonna be by yourself…” He whipped out The Colt and held it in front of him in a way of offering it to Cas. “Remember, there’s only six bullets in, so.”

Cas nodded and accepted it, taking the revolver in his own hands. He felt a hand clasp over his arm as he placed the gun safely in a pocket of his tailcoat belt.

“Make sure you come back to me in one piece, alright?” Dean muttered, with a slight apologetic expression.

Cas caught his gaze and lightly smiled. He lifted a hand to Dean’s cheek as he leaned in absent-mindedly, capturing their lips together. Dean moved into the space between them quickly, hands fumbling carelessly in front of him on where to travel. The kiss lasted not more than three seconds, but the both of them failed to suppress even a tiny smile as they pulled away from each other.

“I’ll be fine. You keep an eye out for yourself, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Hate to break the moment, guys, but- just a reminder of why we’re actually here?” Sam awkwardly spoke out from behind them.

Dean sighed. “Yeap- okay, break a leg,” he said, swiftly pressing a chaste kiss on Cas’ cheekbone as he shyly avoided looking at Sam. “Let’s go.” And so they took off.

Cas merely smiled when the other Winchester’s voice echoed not far away from him. “ _Break a leg_ , seriously? Do you not remember the last time you said that to _me_?”

He watched the both of them vacate from the area and turned to face the dark alley he was about to head for. He was going to be safe, he thought, absolutely safe. He had a flashlight and a gun that could kill anything, what could go wrong?

Taking his first step, his shoe settled in a tiny puddle of clear water, dampening two inches up his foot. He quickly lifted it up and shook his foot, grimacing at the wetness that had affected his socks as well.

He shot his head up as he spotted a moving figure shift quickly from the corner of his eye, a small silhouette edging further into the alley. He set the Colt ready in one hand, flashlight, pacing slowly inwards.

In a blink the silhouette disappeared. He moved further inwards anyway, eyes carefully scanning the area as the flashlight guided him. He peered at the walls as he walked. They seemed very old, and well, _abandoned_ , faded scratches and graffiti art marked on them eerily. He tried not to think of Balthazar when his eyes focused on an unreadable message of graffiti spray painted with many colours; blue, yellow and pink at most that were already on its way to disappearing. He moved past it, lifting his feet carefully as he walked through the quiet path.

Cas froze as the silence broke with a heart-aching cry, the familiar voice of a girl Cas was just getting to know better.

_“MOM!”_

Cas felt his stomach drop and his throat go dry at the terrifying sound. _Jo. Ellen._ He turned back to the mouth of the alleyway where the daylight shined a few inches into it. He tightened his grip on the Colt, fishing it out as he made a run for the way out, starting with a few jogging steps. Within seconds another presence was clear from behind him, getting closer at each step. Fortunately, for the first time, Cas had been given enough time to register it, turning around just in time to dodge a swinging fist in the cold air. He could barely see the man’s features in the dark, but something told him he was another demon by how cold and sly his expression seemed.

“Nice reflexes,” the demon spat at him, giving a soft, bitter chuckle.

“I’ve been told,” Cas said. He would’ve rolled his eyes at how lame he sounded, if it weren’t for the sudden force pushed into his chest, causing his back to hit the brick wall of the building and the flashlight to drop to the ground. He expected it nonetheless, not letting his expression change. Cas was able to see the man clearly then, with his face inches away from his own. The man didn’t meet Dean’s description of _Alastair_ , so Cas swallowed hesitantly before allowing himself to be brave.

“What are you gonna do, kill me?”

The demon glared at him quietly. His eyes revealed black, and Cas wondered if demons did that for specific reasons.

Cas was shoved a second time, the force pushing him back harder than before.

“Shut yer smart mouth,” the demon snapped. His head whipped towards the direction of a yelp belonging to a woman’s voice. It didn’t sound like Ellen, or Jo, so it must’ve been that waitress, or some other demon.

With a second of a distraction Cas freed himself from the demon’s grip, throwing a hard fist at the demon’s mouth. The demon wailed for a moment and attempted to force Cas back, but ultimately paused at the sight of the Colt pointed at him.

“Where is Alastair?” Cas demanded.

The demon smirked. “What makes you think I’ll tell ya?”

Cas glanced down at the revolver he held, studying its parts carefully. The demon’s voice made his eyes shoot back up.

“It’s a pity, ya know. You and your brother. Guess that makes two gettin’ their prize.”

“What are you talking about?” Cas eyed the demon suspiciously, who shrugged back.

“Err’body wants to get their prize,” the demon stated with a nasty grin. “Well, except- err’ human body here. Yer big brother’s in trouble too. Or _was._ ”

“You’re lying,” Cas replied back, ignoring the lump that began to form in his throat.

“Too bad the guy out for him’s a dick. Probably won’t be able to hear ‘bout yer crying, bloody brother dying at some junk of a place-”

“He doesn’t cry.”

“Oh, that so? Guess I should send a message then, beat ‘em till he weeps like a—”

The demon was cut off as Cas fished out another gun, much smaller and less intimidating. Cas aimed at his chest and pulled the trigger quickly, earning a soft laugh from the demon. Cas raised his eyebrows, stepping back as he still kept the Colt firm in his right hand. He missed his target, but the bullet was enough to keep the demon trapped for a while.

“What’d yer do to me?” the demon snapped as soon as he realized he couldn’t move an inch.

Cas shrugged at him, pulling out a salt can from his pocket. He left a semi-circular trail of salt surrounding the demon, caging him from moving anywhere entirely.

“This won’t hold me fer long. Just a tiny bullet and some salt,” the demon said after calming down. “Where yer gonna go next anyways? Err’body in yer life’s dyin’!”

Cas sighed in annoyance. “I preferred not to do this. But you leave me no choice. You’re that annoying,” he said. From the inside of his jacket, Cas pulled out a mini roll of duct tape. He had to thank Jo later and tell her she was right about one thing. _Crap. Jo, Ellen, Bobby._

The demon had a second of protest before Cas pasted a measure of tape on the demon’s mouth, ignoring the pointless struggles of moving.

The demon groaned and huffed as Cas turned on his heel, picked his flashlight back up and made his way to the mouth of the alley. It wasn’t long before he spotted Jo, Ellen, and Bobby, all three discussing among themselves with worried looks. Ellen looked as if she cursed at a certain spot at her ankle, glaring at it. The waitress the demon possessed laid lifeless on the ground, wounded at the stomach.

“Are you alright?” Cas asked, letting his presence be known. He looked back to the dead demon. "How..."

The three of them shot their heads toward him, Jo’s mouth left agape as she looked at him questioningly. They all did the same.

“Sam did it,” Ellen announced.

Cas furrowed his brows. “Sam? But-”

“Cas!”

Sam’s frantic voice filled in from in front of him to his right, several metres away. He hurried towards him, panting from what looked like a _lot_ of running.

“Sam. Where’s Dean?” Cas asked.

Sam widened his eyes with panic, shaking his head.

“I don’t know.”

++

_Thump, thump, thump._

Gabriel ignored the pounding of three beats against the door for at least a good half a minute as he packed his things up, figuring it was just the motel manager trying to tell him it was close to his checkout time.

_Thump, thump, thump._

“I’ll be out in a minute!” Gabriel called out.

_Thump, thump, thump._

He rolled his eyes and aggravatingly sighed as he marched his way towards the door. He paused in his steps and looked over the bed, where his firearm still sprawled over the sheets. Before he could pace to it quickly to shove it into his bag, the thumping on the door still went on.

_Thump, thump, thump._

He switched glances from the door, then to the firearm, then to the door again. If the motel manager had been so insistent on telling him, he’d have just called him from outside. Gabriel grabbed the firearm instead with his right hand before making his way to the door. He let his right hand rest against the surface of the door, hiding his weapon as he swung the door open.

Little did he know he’d see Cas, of all people, stumbling and looking physically at his weakest. There was a moment when Cas looked up briefly at him, sighing with what Gabriel wasn’t sure was exaggerated or not, right before he started to fall forward.

“Whoa! Hey- what the hell happened to you?” Gabriel said as he dragged him in, placing the previously handed firearm on a round desk near the doorstep.

Cas repeatedly panted heavily and shook his head. He wheezed and sighed at every step he took, or to say every step Gabriel took for him. Gabriel dropped him to the nearest bed, and watched confusedly as his brother collapsed, covering his eyes with an arm.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on? How’d you get here? How’d you know where to find me? What the hell?” Gabriel shot his questions straight to the point.

Cas toned down his breathing and let his arm fall to the side. He pointed at his mouth and made a hand gesture.

“What- how am I supposed to know what that means?” Gabriel asked, completely disbelieving to what’s in front of him at the moment.

“W- water,” Cas choked out breathily, his voice barely audible as he pointed at his throat.

“Wa- uh, okay.”

Gabriel set off to the fridge immediately to grab a bottle of water. Right after handing it to Cas, he watched with a surprised look as his brother completely chugged the whole bottle down within a minute, some of the liquid dripping down his chin.

“What in God’s name happened to you?” he asked.

Cas remained silent. He kept his eyes locked to his hands in front of him, an entirely dishevelled appearance still present with him; tiny gashes of blood, bruises, sweat, and a pale face. He shut his eyes for a few seconds. Gabriel thought he might have just dozed off like that.

Instead, he sat up, popped open his eyes with a sudden wide smirk across his face. He raised his hands and started to laugh.

“Sorry, I- sorry, I just can’t keep much of a straight face any longer,” Cas said. He covered his face with a hand, still chortling to himself unusually.

Gabriel stitched his eyebrows together. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked straight-forwardly.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing. I’m still… _me,_ ” Cas said, his smirk changing into a sadistic smile. Everything about him just wasn’t right at all; his posture, his movements, his way of speaking, his expression.

Gabriel’s eyes darted toward the gun on the round table as he backed away.

“Are you?”

Cas tilted his head, and from Gabriel’s time being his brother for more than thirty years, he knew that wasn’t even close to the way Cas did it.

‘Cas’ huffed a laugh. “Alright, you got me. I guess you know your brother more than I thought,” he said with a sigh. “And I guess I’m not the great actor I thought I was.”

Gabriel clenched his jaw and took a step backwards as soon as ‘Cas’ slowly pushed himself off the bed.

“Get out of him,” he demanded.

‘Cas’ looked taken aback for a moment. “A demon? You think I’m a demon, really?”

“I don’t care what you are. You came here for a reason, and well, I’m guessing it’s to hurt or kill me,” Gabriel said, shrugging his shoulders.

“But what if I _was,_ though? A low class, black-eyed demon someone like you could maybe handle for a while, possessing your poor baby brother, looking into his thoughts. Would you fight me?”

“Well, if you were a demon, I’m pretty sure you’d have at least coughed out some of that holy water since you dunked the whole bottle down,” Gabriel said.

‘Cas’ flickered his eyes to the empty plastic bottle on the bed. He snorted. “You didn’t even answer the question.”

“I don’t need to. You’re just a shifter.”

There was a pause, and Gabriel stopped taking steps back when the silence fell over. He switched his view to the gun resting on the round table on the other side of the room, which wasn’t too far away, but he had to think of a way to get to it with a smarter way than simply rushing to it.

“Maybe I’m just a shifter. But I could be a shifter with excellent knife throwing skills,” the shifter pointed out, shrugging his shoulders as he stood up. Gabriel surveyed the shifter’s profile, noticing he was unarmed and still looking dishevelled for the redundant act.

“Or, I could be a great fighter,” the shifter added on, walking towards him with exaggerated footsteps.

Being cornered was the last thing Gabriel planned on happening to himself.

“But you’re not,” he guessed, staying in his spot.

“I’m not. Much,” the shifter said. He looked down at Gabriel, reminding him of how much his younger brother actually towered over him. “If there was one thing, one thing I’d be known for… I manipulate. Trick people.”

With that one sentence, Gabriel snorted at him. He probably missed a slight change in the shifter’s expression as he looked to the floor and snickered at it.

He gathered himself, finally looking back up and smirked. “I guess the both of us are just getting started then.”

++

“What- what do you mean you don’t _know_?” Cas stuttered, eyeing Sam like he’d just talked gibberish.

“I don’t know. He was- one second he was _right_ behind me, and the next— _gone!_ ” Sam exclaimed. “Not a sound, not a wave of air, no sign of him anywhere, nothing!” he rambled on. Cas did his best to keep his calm, attempting to ignore the thoughts that scrambled cruelly through his head.

Cas pressed his lips together in a straight line as Sam went on about it, glowering at the ground. Wiping a hand through his face, he found his breath, finally, and spoke, cutting Sam off.

“We’ll find him.”

“I’ve searched _every_ -”

“Then we’ll search harder. We’ll find him. We _have_ to,” Cas affirmed, looking up. There was a mark of determination in his eyes, combined with the worry he failed to hide. Sam stared back at him, swallowing hesitantly as his breaths started to go back to normal. He kept silent and nodded his head. Cas knew he made it clear that he wasn’t going to stop looking until he knew Dean was okay.

“You’re right,” Sam muttered.

Cas nodded, awkwardly clapping a hand on Sam’s arm. He figured he should probably leave that duty to Dean. He cleared his throat quickly and swirled his head to Jo, Ellen and Bobby’s direction.

“Are you all good? Ellen?”

Ellen gave a firm nod at his way. “I can work.”

“But your foot—” Jo started to protest.

“I can work,” Ellen reaffirmed. Jo rolled her eyes with a sigh, looking anywhere but at her mother as a silence fell between them.

“Cas, you see anything in that alley?” Bobby’s voice finally broke the quietness.

“Yes. There’s a demon trapped in there, still. I think with some convincing, we might be able to crack him.”

“So what now?” Jo questioned.

 _What now,_ Cas repeated in his head. He stood there, unsure of what to do or say, mouth left open as his chest unsettled tightly.

“I— I don’t know,” Cas choked out softly.

“How about this,” Sam filled in for him. “Cas and I will continue to look over the place. Dean has to be somewhere.”

“Well, you two oughta find him quick. And _smart_. You idjits best not kill yourselves, understand?” Bobby indicated strictly.

Cas pressed his mouth in a thin line and nodded as Sam muttered, “We won’t.”

Cas showed them the location of the alley as he explained the details of it; how far in he managed, how the demon was trapped, and that the demon babbled a lot, lies or truth, he never knew. He left out the part of what the demon exactly said to him, about Gabriel, some shifter. He couldn’t think about that, he couldn’t let himself think about a demon’s lie. Dean was missing, and with no clue on where he vanished off to, Cas couldn’t, _shouldn’t_ , let his thoughts overtake him.

 _“Make sure you come back to me in one piece, alright?”_ Dean’s voice echoed in his head.

_“I promise, I’ll see you in a bit.”_

They always did.

_“Don’t do anything— anything stupid.”_

Yet again, they always did.

“You alright?” Sam asked, snapping him out of his trance.

Cas glanced up too quickly. They were already out of the other three’s view, and he had barely realized they’ve been patrolling the area for two minutes without a word said to each other.

“Yes,” Cas answered hastily.

He felt Sam’s eyes on him for a couple of seconds before they averted. Cas sighed.

“I’m being a dick and I apologize. I just don’t know what to think right now,” he said.

“You’re not— Cas, look, I was panicking before. Dean’s going to be fine, and we’ll find him before anything bad can happen,” Sam assured.

Cas looked away, swallowing the lump in his throat as the thoughts in his head were close to taking over.

“We have to find him,” he said.

“We will.”

They continued their search with no words filling the air around them for a while. They went through every shop, alley they came across, each of them resulting in no sign of Dean. Cas sighed softly to himself, the extra worry starting to kick in.

“So, what happened back there? With everyone,” Cas spoke as an attempt to brush the worries off his mind.

Sam shrugged. “I got there the last second. Pretty sure Ellen was a tiny step close to getting rid of that demon, but I don’t know, one of them must’ve turned. Next thing I know Ellen’s pinned to the ground, the demon’s stepping on her foot. So I just—” He halted in his sentence, shaking his head slightly as he looked away.

“You had no choice,” Cas simply stated.

It might have sounded uncaring. That wasn’t it, though. Cas did care about Sam, as a friend and not just as Dean’s brother. Him and Sam probably had more in common than him and Dean did, as much as Dean denied that fact at first.

_“Whatever, you two nerds discuss whatever nerdy stuff you talk about. Nerds.”_

So yes, it had never been awkward with Sam, not since the first time at least. But being the person who walked through the door with his unconscious brother hanging by his shoulders, how could it not?

“Yeah. I guess,” Sam muttered unsurely, turning his head away.

“I meant that,” Cas insisted.

“…Okay?” Sam expressed questioningly. Did Dean’s presence honestly affect the way him and Sam talked? Cas thought, and then realized, he’d never spoken to Sam without Dean in the same room before, even if he wasn’t actually saying anything other than mockery.

Before Cas could further respond, Sam paused in his tracks completely. A sudden rustle of the dead shrubbery behind them with a howl of the wind sounded close to them. Cas stopped as well not a second later, noticing the uninvited presence that was about to make themselves known. Both of them, simultaneously, glanced upwards at the flickering streetlight. Damn it, Cas thought, a streetlight shouldn’t even be functioning at this time of the day, let alone in an abandoned town like this.

“CAS!”

A weight crashed over him within a flash of a second, low growls breathing into his ear.

“P-prize, _prize!_ ”

Cas turned on his back, holding the figure away from him as it continued to claw at his face. Above him was a sick-looking woman, hair barely starting to grey. Skin pale as ice, dry and wrinkled from her puffy eyes to the line of her neck. She wore nothing but a hospital gown and a furious look on her face, eyes greyed out with determination.

“ _Prize!_ ” she cried out again.

Cas gasped, shooing his head to the other direction as long, damaged fingernails came his way. He lunged forward, throwing her off of him to the flat ground. A splash of water waved through the air, hitting the trembling woman pathetically. The woman growled more, annoyed by the action, but not entirely affected by it.

“Not a demon,” Cas said, holding the flask of holy water in hand.

Sam shook his head in response. “Nothing good.”

It felt like a millisecond before Sam flashed out his gun and shot the woman straight through her head, no other words spoken. Cas jumped in surprise at the quick blast in the air, mouth left agape at the lifeless body that lay just a few feet away from him.

“She was gonna kill us either way,” Sam explained. Cas understood the situation, but by the way Sam carried himself, and the way he talked… something was a little off.

“Sam.”

“We better go, judging by the weather I’m pretty sure there’s a bunch of demon stuff going around here.”

“Sam…”

“What?” Sam asked, turning his head over a shoulder as he walked.

Cas stepped forward, crossing his arms against his waist.

“Who’s my favourite character in Game of Thrones?” Cas asked, sneaking a hand into the inner layer of his jacket.

“What?”

“Answer the question,” Cas ordered. Sam turned to face him, thinking for somewhat a few seconds.

“Um- Jon Snow? Look, we can’t waste time right now-”

“Wrong. I’ve never watched Game of Thrones,” Cas said, narrowing his eyes towards him.

Sam swallowed hesitantly as he stayed confused, shaking his head. “We gotta go find Dean, alright? I’m not in the mood for guessing games.”

“It’s funny, because Game of Thrones is kind of all you talk about with me, and the reason you do that is because I _don’t_ watch the show. You know that,” Cas implied. "Also, I recall us discussing that we'd ask each other that question if we were in doubt of who the other person was."

Sam scoffed. “Cas, it’s me. Trust me.”

Cas studied his expression. It was almost convincing, but not enough for Cas to really know.

“Hold this,” Cas said. Wrapping his fingers around the silver knife he hid in his jacket pocket, he held it towards him.

“Your birthday- September 18th.”

Cas raised his eyebrows. “I wonder who told you that. Even Dean doesn’t know the exact date, believe it or not. Take the knife, Sam.”

Sam halted, flickering his eyes down at the knife in Cas’ hand. He reached forward for it confidently at first, pausing at the end of the blade.

Cas prevented himself from rolling his eyes to the back of his head. He slid the tip against the centre of Sam’s palm, having Sam immediately flinch his hand away with a hiss.

The shifter gave out a hollow laugh in Sam’s voice, clutching onto his hurt palm.

“You have to admit, that was an interesting attempt.”

“Until the part where you got everything wrong,” Cas remarked hastily. He glared at the shifter, aiming the edge of the blade to his chin.

“I’ve- _we’ve_ heard many things about you, Castiel. One thing I know, you wouldn’t hurt this guy. You can’t.”

“You're not him. Where are they?” Cas demanded.

The shifter grinned. “What the poor woman said.”

Cas squinted his eyes in confusion, barely processing the sentence before a fist was flown to the side of his face. Failing to miss the punch, jerking his head away from sight of the shifter, he winced at the ache followed by the taste of blood in his mouth.

There wasn’t a sign of the shifter as soon as Cas’ vision returned.

“What the woman said,” Cas repeated to himself. “What the woman said.”

He massaged the side of his cheek, ensuring another time that no bones were broken. He looked around, hoping to spot any clue. He darted his eyes towards the lifeless woman on the ground. The light strands of her hair covered the paleness of her faded face, and by the way her eyes actually shut, she looked peacefully asleep.

“Prize,” Cas found himself saying.

God, what the hell was that supposed to mean? Why did everyone keep saying that? First the demons, then some rabid old lady— everything was off. He realized then it wasn’t only Dean whom was missing, Sam had probably been taken as well.

He needed to get to them. No more distractions, no more slacking. He needed to find out what in _hell_ prize everyone’s looking for.

 

++

 

Dean woke with a sharp breath, not knowing he was even awake at first. The darkness surrounding him creeped coldly around his head, causing him to blink several times to make sure he wasn’t actually sleeping. He couldn’t see a thing, and God, he hated it; the pitch black. Nothing was ever pitch black for Dean.

His head immediately bumped into what felt like cheap wood, and wow, he was actually standing on two feet the entire time. He leaned back into the material, shifting his hands and legs forwards to find out just how enclosed of an area he was trapped in. Bigger than a coffin, definitely. Dean didn’t like travelling back to those memories, but in this situation, maybe he was lucky John taught him to do it the hard way.

He felt his way to his pockets, rummaging for any source of light. His flashlight was clearly not with him, since the last thing he remembered was—

Parting from Cas.

He left Cas at that alley, for what reason, he didn’t know— oh that’s right, they had a quibble, which lead to an almost three-second make out session. Fantastic. Then he took off with Sam, and- _blank._ No other memories came to mind, though it felt like he could actually collect it from the back of his head.

Dean heard himself sigh, moving his hands as he searched for any bumps in his clothes. His palms patted against his flat clothing, hoping to find _something_ to work with. With a light of hope on his face, not literally, because it was really fucking dark, Dean flashed out an object from the base of his pocket.

He pressed a finger on it, locating a bump. _Victory._ The light from the screen flashed vigorously at his eyes, causing him to dart them away immediately.

So it was confirmed. He was definitely stuck in some wooden box for what reason, and he couldn’t remember a thing.

“Dean!”

“Sam?” Dean called back to the voice.

“Dean!”

Sam’s voice was muffled and unclear, probably a fair distance away. Dean pressed his ear against the wooden surface anyway, hoping to hear any response.

“Sammy, you hear me?” Dean shouted out.

Dean sighed, turning back to face the other wall when no reply was heard. He used the light from his phone screen, as much as it annoyed him by having to press the button every thirty seconds, to find a way out. And some oxygen. Damn it, he was even running low of _air_.

Keeping a steady position against the wall, he pressed his hands against the wooden surface in front of him forcefully, grunting impatiently when it seemed like nothing happened. He attempted again, and again. He panted and wiped the sweat formed on the line of his forehead. He bent forward, holding his knees as he breathed heavily for air. One sight made him stand straight back up.

A tiny light seeped through the edge of the box.

Dean _had_ actually made a productive effort after all. He stood his ground, wiped the sweat off his palms and tried again. Pushing with the hardest force he could, Dean observed as the light grew in length at each second. With a last groan, the door swung forward, almost swinging back to hit Dean in the face. Dean gasped as air hit him like a brick, taking in as much oxygen as he could at each breath.

He finally contained himself, blinking several times to get his eyes fully open. He frowned at his surroundings, clearly not expecting to be faced with them. He glanced up, only to see a giant, tall wheel behind him.

Dean turned around hastily, scrunching his face at the Ferris wheel which stood four hundred feet high above him. He looked back at the “box” and figured, all this time, he’d been trapped in a freaking _carriage_.

A rusty, old, abandoned carriage.

“What the hell?” He muttered to himself.

“Took you long enough.”

Dean swiveled back at the new voice that filled the air, getting a view of the back of a figure. He didn’t have to see its face to know. He just knew, like before, that it was that God damn son of a bitch who started this.

“Alastair.”

 


	8. Marching Band - Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone remind me to never write action scenes again?

_***_

_I can promise you all of the life brings lies to pain_

_Such a sweeter ending_

_How am I to know if this is our last embrace?_

_***_  

Cas could no longer breathe properly.  

There wasn’t a sight of anyone, anything alive, or even dead, in that place. It hadn’t been since that shifter crept up on him.  

He never should have split from Dean in the first place; God, why did he even do that? It was a simple rule to follow- nobody goes alone. He regretted making the decision of stepping into that alley, when he could still be working with Dean, getting something done at the slightest.

He paused in his steps, allowing himself to take a few breaths as he dragged his hands down to his knees. A change in the air caused him to straighten up quick, reflexively grabbing onto the gun at his belt.  

It was a howling whoosh of the wind, followed by the scattering of leaves and the sound of something light dropping that made him turn around. What looked like a poster that fell from a lamp post drew near him, being accompanied by the wind. Scanning the area around him carefully, Cas stepped forward to reach out for the thing.

_WIN YOUR GRAND PRIZE!_

Cas stared at the poster in his hand, furrowing his eyebrows as things just got weirder and weirder in that place.

And that’s when, from the corner of his eye, the Ferris wheel from a distance started to spin.  

++

Dean whipped his head up as the Ferris wheel creaked, beginning to rotate behind him. He looked quickly back to Alastair, who suddenly stood inches away from him with the most unsettling grin on his face. All Dean could see was ice.  

Dean swallowed hesitantly. “What do you want, Alastair? What is it that you really want?”  

Alastair shrugged. “Everything, Dean- _everything._ ”  

Dean’s voice felt trapped at the back of his throat. There, the enemy was, and Dean could barely move a muscle. Not like he had any weapons with him anyway.  

As Dean remained silent, Alastair went on.  

“Cat got your tongue?” Alastair sneered. “Been looking forward to meeting you, Dean. Boy, the things I’ve got in store for you.”  

“Why are you after us?” Dean managed to ask.  

Alastair bitterly chuckled, not a hint of actual joy present in his tone. The smile faded from his lips as he muttered, “Same reason you’re after me, kiddo.”  

Dean barely dodged the fist that was swung at his face. He groaned at the unexpected force that was much stronger than he thought. Another swift at him had him gasp, and before he knew it, his knees were planted to the ground.   

“Dean?” Sam’s voice called. It was distant, his voice, yet Dean couldn’t quite place where it came from. He swore his ears started to ring.    

“Sam?” Dean tried calling back.  

His face was grabbed by a dry, scarred hand. “Pity he won’t be able to see this, ain’t it?” That hand was probably strong enough to crush a skull.  

Dean flinched at the sight. “I’ll ask you-” he choked out. “One last time, before I kill the daylights out of you. What do you want with us?”  

Alastair scoffed. He let go of Dean forcefully, sending him back to the ground.  

“You humans. Every story has a reason for you monkeys, don’t it?”  Alastair slurred.  

Dean took the spare time to take in a few breaths, and looked around him for any possible solution. Nobody was coming, not a hint of another sound present besides the normal howl of the wind and the hiss at Alastair’s sentence.  

“Maybe, Dean,” Alastair started again. “I just like to  _kill_ , and see people die. Am a demon, after all.”  

Dean would’ve rolled his eyes if Alastair hadn’t been staring straight at him. But Alastair turned his back, pacing a few quiet steps.  

“Maybe I’ve got nothing better to do than seek _revenge_ ,” he went on. Alastair snickered and raised his voice. “Or _maybe,_ all this wouldn’t be worth my time,- if you and that _pretty boy_ hadn’t started planning something new with buddy old Crowley.”  

Dean frowned, brushed himself as he stood up, shaking. “You killed my parents. And Jessica. Cas’ family too.”  

“Castiel,” Alastair uttered his name, and Dean hated the way it rolled off his tongue. “I have to say, Dean, he’s my favourite of the Novak’s.”  

Dean eyed him suspiciously. “Why do you say that?” He wasn’t sure if he was stalling. There wasn’t much to find, or anything he had with him.   

“Well, what can I say? He’s charming, smart,” Alastair teased and turned back to him. “That make you curious, boy?”

Dean flew backwards, ears filled with the quick swish of air before his back hit hardly against the wooden carriage, a pushing force trapping him to the wall.   

“Like I said, _Dean_ , not every story’s got to have a reason.”  

His throat was caught, oxygen refusing to let into his system. He stuck to the thought that he wouldn’t die then. Not like this.  

Dean collapsed back to the ground, holding his throat as he painfully inhaled. Alastair grinned. “What if I kept doing this? Torture to torture to torture, no death. One by one, see your friends go. Sammy boy’s turn could be the closest.”  

“No,” Dean whispered.  

Alastair turned his head towards the Ferris wheel, his mouth curling up as the structure began to rotate.  

“What’re you doing?” Dean hissed. 

He slid back against the wall painfully, groaning as his head hit a bad spot. His hand shot up to his head immediately as his point of view blurred, only managing to get a glance of Alastair walking over as the Ferris wheel continued to rotate. He could hear Sam faintly let out a small, confused call.

Dean hadn’t even realized the bump he felt at the bottom of his ankle until then. Black started to edge from the corners of his vision, but he fought, and fought it to keep himself awake. There were people he needed to see again, things he had to say, and new,  _good_  memories needed to be made. His view blurred again, but before he knew it, one of Alastair’s hands gripped the sleeve of his jacket.  

Dean backed away at the touch, refusing to look Alastair in the eye. He swallowed hesitantly, bearing the pain that throbbed at the back of his head before forcing himself to face Alastair with a smirk.  

“It’s a pity, you know? You must’ve had some whacked up childhood to end up like this,” Dean said.  

Alastair’s grin faded slightly. “Watch where you’re going, boy.”  

“I mean- demons, yeah. No feelings, emotions, I get it. But wow, you’re one hell of a hurricane, Alastair,” Dean murmured.  

“Could crack your neck in a  _snap_ ,” Alastair said.  

“But you won’t,” Dean declared softly. “Not like this. Not now.”  

Alastair tilted his head judgingly, tightening his grip. “And what makes you so sure?”  

“Because,” Dean said with a shrug, pulling up a corner of his mouth. “You’re a _grade A_ d-bag, and God help me if there is one, last thing I see won’t be you.”  

Dean pulled out the knife kept in his sock and damn, if he actually knew what he was doing. He stabbed the hand on his sleeve, causing Alastair to flinch back.  

Alastair clutched his own hand, deepening his frown. “Funny how holy water lingers onto things like that.”  

Dean didn’t have the faintest clue of what he was to do next- he could actually die at any given moment. He might have probably pissed Alastair more.  

Alastair flicked his hand. “You want it that way, Dean? Fine. I guess watching your brother fall from all those feet above- that’ll be enough.”  

“What?”  

Alastair showed his hand in the direction of the Ferris wheel. Dean heard a snap of wood, and what he managed to see was the break of a carriage from its position, dropping lower.  

“SAM!” Dean yelled, despite the dryness in his throat.  

Dean stepped further, but Alastair flickered his wounded hand at Dean, catching Dean with an invisible force that held his knees to the ground.  

Dean struggled to get back up, clenching his fists and teeth, and damn, if he hadn’t been so stupid. “No,” he whispered, as the carriage sunk lower, the wooden plank that held it creaking even more.  

Alastair’s control on him remained, yet the hand controlling the Ferris wheel dropped back to his side.  He turned to his right with the same ugly grin sat on his face.  

“Well, well,” Alastair uttered. “If it isn’t the holy angelic- Castiel.”  

Dean’s head whipped around to see Cas, hand visibly trembling from a distance. He looked as if he’d just run a mile, looking for someone, and well, Dean couldn’t blame him. What he held in his hand was a gun, but not just any kind.

_The Colt._

“Cas,” Dean managed to say.  

Dean’s knees were still pinned to the ground. Cas hadn’t said anything yet, just leaving his gaze seared onto Alastair painfully, and damn, did it make Dean nervous. The Colt pointed in Alastair’s direction, not much of a good distance, but it was obvious Cas knew better than to step further forward.  

“Wonderful of you to join us. Care for one?” Alastair casually pulled out a box of something Dean couldn’t see. He then stepped forward, extending his hand out. Dean’s knees felt normal again, making him gasp as his face nearly met the ground.  

Cas stayed silent, but the look on his face had changed, mouth frowning even deeper. Dean looked up to what Alastair held in his hand.  

Cigarettes.  

“No thank you,” Cas finally said- and what a relief it was to finally hear that voice, despite the situation they were in.  

Alastair snickered, keeping his pace constant as he fully faced Cas. “Sure about that? Heard these were the best kind,” he said. He shrugged, and turned back to Dean as he pulled one out.  

Dean couldn’t help wondering why Cas hadn’t just took the shot already. Or why Alastair hadn’t done anything. Or what happened to the torture or death wish placed upon him a minute ago. Or which fucking  _carriage_ Sam was still trapped in.

“It’s how I do things, Dean. Torture isn’t just endless- _physical_ pain,” Alastair said, as if he had read Dean’s mind.  

Dean coughed, shooting his eyes back to Cas, who still left his finger soft on the trigger. His hands shook less.

Without warning, and Dean hadn’t even seen it, Cas pulled the trigger.  

It took a while for Dean to register what just happened. His shoulders shook as he dared himself to look at the outcome.   

Alastair still stood on two feet, unaffected by anything.  _No_. Dean scrunched his eyebrows together, panic starting to fill in him.  It was supposed to work. 

Alastair had his hand out in front of him, with a bullet floating two inches away from it. The silence was cut when the bullet dropped to the ground with a short cling.  

“No,” Cas said, shaking his head. Dean watched him grab a firmer hold of his gun again, prepared to shoot a second- few more times. But it was far too late for that. Dean watched as the gun flew out of Cas’ hands. But then he realized it wasn’t the gun that moved- it was  _Cas_.  

Cas grunted as he hit the floor, trapped by Alastair’s control. Alastair walked back towards him with a sly smirk on his face.  

“Guns aren’t the best choice, Castiel - no matter what fancy bullets you got in here,” Alastair said, picking the gun up from the ground as he towered over Cas.  

Dean got up immediately, under what reflex, he didn’t know- but he had to. Alastair caught him again by just a raised movement of five fingers, sliding him a few feet away from Cas.

Alastair put a finger to his chin. “Wondering what I could do with the both of you.”  

Dean finally looked next to him, where Cas had already been staring with the most apologetic expression on his face. Dean would’ve reached out to him if it wasn’t for the force paralyzing both of them to the ground- or really, if a white-eyed demon wasn’t on the verge of his next murder spree.  

Alastair’s expression lighted up in the slightest.  

“I know,” he said. “What about a little game of Russian Roulette? We’ll make up our own rules.”  Alastair turned his back to them once again.  

“If we could distract him somehow…”  Cas whispered.  

Dean flickered his eyes to the Ferris wheel. “I think that Ferris wheel’s vulnerable. One shot- carriage could go timber. Maybe on him.”  

Cas switched his gaze to it as well. “You think we should?” He asked.  

“If it means slowing him down. One problem, though.”  

Cas waited for a reply.  

“Sam’s in there,” Dean’s voice cracked.  

Cas widened his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, but Alastair turned back around to say, “The game won’t be about you two.”  

++

Dean flinched as Alastair shot another carriage a third time. There was still no sound or noise made that indicated which carriage Sam was in. He started to worry, and looked over to his side. Cas laid there, almost hopeless, as the force Alastair used still paralyzed them to the ground.  

“Well, look at that, bullets are almost out,” Alastair said.  

Dean groaned lightly as he tried his tenth attempt to move a muscle, failing after every try. He just wanted a miracle to happen.  

Next to him Cas gasped softly, and Dean eyed him sideways. Cas looked at him back with wide eyes, and Dean wondered if he was up to the point of imagining Cas ’ hand next to his, and actually…  moving.  

Cas wasn’t trapped anymore, and Alastair didn’t seem to take notice of it. He was clearly confused by the look on his face, and so was Dean, but they both tried to hide it.  Just a second later the heavy weight lifted off Dean’s chest as well, and Alastair had gone on with sentences Dean didn’t pay much attention to.  

When Alastair didn’t look at them, Dean slowly reached for the fingers that laid on the ground aimlessly. Cas darted his eyes to him, and Dean felt a squeeze of his palm in return. 

As if something just struck him in the head, Cas took the chance to hurriedly place something under Dean’s jacket. His movements were so quick, the only thing Dean caught sight of was a dash of silver.    

Their hands immediately shifted away from each other as Alastair turned back to them, The Colt still in hand. Alastair proceeded to light a cigarette in Cas’ direction. The cigarette stick hung from his mouth as he glared him, and Dean knew Cas was forcing himself to glare right back.  

“Your mother was a lovely one. Too pure for her own good,” Alastair uttered. He puffed the smoke from his mouth, leaving them shaped in ‘O’ s as they floated in the air.  

“Was she?” Cas challenged.  

Dean eyed him suspiciously. Cas wasn’t the type to talk back to demons, especially when they had him in control. He usually thought it was too big of a risk to take to piss them off. The only time Cas ever tried to was when he had to _stall_.

Alastair smirked. “A lot like you, Castiel. A lot like you.”  

“I’m not so sure you have the right to judge that,” Cas replied back.  

One reply was enough, but two had Dean quickly thinking what Cas needed him to do.

Dean kept his expression neutral when he shifted the slightest to guess the object Cas placed under his jacket. Small, metal… easy to hold. He peeked downwards, trying to get an image of what laid there.   

It looked like a much smaller gun. He tried to look closer, and it didn’t make sense to him why Cas would give him another simple revolver.

Then it struck him. The gun wasn’t simple, because it didn’t have ordinary bullets either.  

Dean’s breath nearly hitched as Alastair grabbed Cas by the collar, tugging him up for their faces to be more at level. Alastair’s grip tightened at first, with a sly smirk on his mouth, and slowly, the realization hit him. It probably shouldn’t have been that easy to let go of the ‘force’ holding Cas down.  

The minute Alastair’s smirk started to fade, Dean grabbed hold of the small gun under the most outer piece of cloth he wore and immediately took a shot. Cas freed himself right after, standing on two feet.  

Alastair looked down upon himself, eyeing the bullet that sunk past his meatsuit’s dress shirt. He pressed his lips into a thin line, the same kind of expression still present.  

“Good job, boys! Won’t hold me for long, but  _good try_ ,” Alastair hissed.  “Always in for a little game.”  

The Colt laid about twenty feet away from them on solid ground. Dean didn’t know when it got there, or when Alastair let it go, but he didn’t exactly want to entertain Alastair right then. He made a run for it.  He was pretty sure Cas called his name, but there was no point in looking back when everything could just end right then and there.  

The distance between the Colt and him never seemed to change as he ran further for it, no matter how much he tried. He slowed down as he realized the Colt still looked as far from him as it did before.  

“What-”  

“Told you so. Bullet with this tiny devil’s trap won’t hold me for long- or much,” Alastair called out.  

Dean furrowed his eyebrow s and looked back at the Colt. Then he eyed Cas from the distance, who probably stopped running sooner than he did. Gritting his teeth, Dean fired another shot at Alastair with the same gun.  

Cas stepped forward. “Dean, you heard him-”  

“Yeah, I did. Forget the Colt for now. We gotta find a way to get Sam out of there first,” Dean cut him off. They quickly paced their way to each other, and with a nod, Cas asked, “Okay, what’s the plan?”  

“What? _You’re_ the one with the plan, you started it,” Dean argued.  

“No, I just- thought of a way to get out. You always have a plan, Dean,” Cas stated back.  

Dean sighed at that, and glanced at the Ferris wheel above them as it rotated. Their heads whipped back to Alastair, whom had already moved an arm.  

The first thing Dean did was shoot another two times straight to Alastair’s chest.  

“Crap. How many you think there’s left?” Dean asked.  

“I’m certain there’s enough. At least, before we come close to finding a way to save Sam,” Cas rumbled. Dean wasn’t even sure whether he was being sarcastic.  

Dean looked up again, and noticed how the Ferris wheel still shook slightly even when Alastair did nothing.  

“SAM?” He called out, while Cas kept a watch on Alastair.  

“Yeah!” Sam’s faint voice replied back.  

Dean swallowed. “Okay, he’s not all far up, but not at the bottom here either.  Sounds like he’s on the left side. Tell me, Cas, you any good in physics?”  he asked, pulling the hammer of the gun back.  

“Um- astronomy’s basically a subset of physics.  So yes, I know a bit,”   Cas answered hastily.  

“Well, would it make sense if I said the left side of the Ferris wheel gets dragged down slightly after every time Alastair tries to spin it? Some- I don’t know, drag force?” Dean questioned with a shrug.  

“Dean, with the way you put it, that hardly made sense to me. Also, this is a white-eyed demon we’re dealing with, so I wouldn’t depend on _any_  kind of physics,” Cas said.

“I mean, there’s gotta be some pattern in the movement, right?”  Dean suggested.    

Alastair’s arm shot up in the air again, and like a reflex, the trigger went off after Dean’s aim just like that to the demon’s direction. The left side of the Ferris wheel came closer, and the carriage Dean predicted where Sam was wasn’t too far, but also not safe enough to land either.  

“Dean, he doesn’t look too happy,” Cas insinuated. “I don’t think many bullets are left.  And none of the refills are with me.”  

Dean switched his glance to the Ferris wheel again. “Just a bit more, Cas.”  

“I’ll try to see and find a way around this thing,” Cas said. “I’ll be back. And I’ll try to get the Colt, if possible. ”  

“Don’t take too long.”  

Dean had no idea what Alastair went on about from that distance, but within a blink, Alastair was no longer in sight. Dean made a quick turn himself, surveying the area.  

“Cas!” Dean called out. “He’s gone! Cas?”  

The tiny moment of panic that filled Dean relieved itself as Cas hurriedly paced back to him, turning his head around as well.  

“The bullets are almost of no use. They’re too small,” Cas concluded.  

“Yeah, no kidding. Where would he even go at this point?”  

Dean watched Cas’ eyes travel up as a tiny creak escaped from above them. He was pretty sure he heard a gasp, right before Cas slammed two hands against his chest, pushing both their bodies backwards. Not a second later a carriage dropped ten feet to the ground, right where they were standing.  

Dean panted, steadying himself against Cas, who still looked shocked nonetheless as they stared at the broken carriage.   

“Crap. Thanks,” Dean managed.   

“Dean… which one was it did you think Sam was in?”  Cas questioned, tilting his head towards him worriedly.  

Dean could have sworn his heart dropped straight to his stomach.  

“Sam!” He yelled, running towards the pile of half-broken wood. “SAM!”  

The pile shifted the slightest with a long, hurtful groan coming out of it that made Dean’s insides twist. The body under, or in that pile, was visible, and far too tall.  

“Sam! Hey, hey- you’re okay, right?” Dean’s voice cracked as he spoke, his knees bending down to Sam’s side. “You’re okay, right?  C’mon, you’re okay,” He shoved the piles and pile s of wood away, finally getting a glimpse of Sam’s body.  

Sam replied with a mumbled groan as he laid there helplessly.  

“What?”  

“I- I think- I broke something.”  

“No kidding, bro.”  

“No, I mean- my shoulde-”  

Dean didn’t get to register or react to what Sam was saying, as his head pulled backwards with a hard tug of his hair.  

His body slammed to the ground with a thud, hitting the back of his head a little too harshly. He flinched at the sight of Alastair towering over him with a sardonic, lopsided grin. Dean could see the bullet holes that dug at random places of his shirt. Wow, he needed to work on his aim more.  

Alastair spared one look at him, waved a hand, which definitely indicated forcing Dean on the ground. He turned around, pacing a few steps towards Sam. Looked like Alastair  _threw_  Dean again.  

“You better watch this, Dean!” Alastair chimed.  

Sam looked up helplessly at the demon, face trembling as he held onto his shoulder tightly.  

“No,” Dean whispered. “Sam, get out of there!”  

Sam stayed where he was, face growing braver at each step Alastair took.  

“Sam!” Dean tried again.  

Sam wasn’t being forced to the ground like Dean was. Dean could make of that. But instead of moving, or attempting at all, Sam simply flashed Alastair a glare, the whole way through.  

“Come on, Sam, what the hell are you doing?” Dean asked himself.  

As Alastair was three steps away, Sam slightly lifted himself from the pile of wood.  _Slightly._ He looked like he was in a lot of pain, and it made Dean’s inside feel like bursting.  

“Sam,” Dean tried one last time, his voice trembling with warning.  

Slowly, Alastair stepped closer into Sam’s space and laid a hand on his neck, lifting him from the ground. Sam winced at that, but continued to remain still. Dean watched, as Sam lowered his eyelids and parted his mouth for air. Alastair rose him higher by the neck.  

A few seconds later of that, with Dean’s hope running out, Alastair’s grip tightened. It tightened for a millisecond before he released his hold of Sam, dropping him back to the ground.  

“What?”

Dean never thought Alastair’s voice could go so soft like that.  

Sam moved himself away immediately, his gaze dropping down to the plank Alastair stood on. Alastair stayed motionless with his hand in front of him.  

“Sam!” Dean yelled, getting up from the ground, and  _oh_ , _he can move._ Within seconds he was squatting at Sam’s side, mumbling quick curses and questions, but Sam’s focus stayed on Alastair.  

“I can’t believe it worked,” Sam uttered. Dean turned his head to the direction of Sam’s view.  

The wooden plank Alastair stood on was carved with a devil’s trap.  

Alastair tried too hard to keep that half-smirk on his face.   

“You, boy, really think _this_ will hold me-”  

Both Dean and Sam jumped at the unexpected bang that echoed in the air. Dean was ready to defend himself with something as a reflex. There wasn’t another sound other than a hard thud and the shocked breaths they exhaled.  

Alastair laid still on the ground sideways with his eyes turned pale white. Dean looked up further from him to see a trembling hand carrying _the Colt_ , with its figure stood just a few feet away from them.  

“Cas.”  

Cas dropped his hand to his side with the old revolver still firm in hold. Dean got up and circled around Alastair, still motionless on the ground.  

“I… I-” Cas stuttered, eyes widening at each second.  

“You killed him,” Dean finished.  His expression slowly went from shock to realization.  “Shit.  Cas, you killed Alastair.”  

Cas remained still, his mouth parted in shock, and then aimed his gun towards the lifeless demon again.  

Another **_bang!_**  filled the atmosphere, making Dean jump and get his gun ready before he realized the sudden explosion came from the same gun Cas was holding. 

He shot Cas a fierce look, and Cas simply shrugged his shoulders back at him, looking mildly confused at what he did.  

"I... guess I had to make sure," Cas said.  

The only thing Dean could do was slightly step forward, wanting to embrace Cas in his arms, because holy shit, they actually survived that whole thing. Alastair was officially _dead_.  

But Cas turned his attention away from him, looking down at Sam worriedly. "Are you-?"  

"Think I broke a shoulder," Sam grunted, trying to get up.  

Dean snapped his head to Sam's direction. "What?"  

He hurried back to Sam as he started slipping back to the ground. "Hey, hey- you gotta stay with me for a bit, okay?" Dean assured, supporting his back.  

Sam nodded and clutched his right shoulder as his eyelids started to droop.  

"Right shoulder? Okay, let's get you up, c'mon." Dean pushed Sam up by his waist, supporting him at his left side. "How bad is it?" He asked. Sam groaned in response.  

"Dean, fall like that- he needs to be taken to the hospital," Cas said.  

Sam's head fell on Dean's shoulder with a thump. Without hesitation, Dean nodded back. "Shit, okay. Hospital it is. Can you drive?" He asked Cas.  

"Of course. Keys?"  

"Right, uh-" Dean froze as he patted his pockets with no sound of the Impala's keys with him. He checked again in his jacket only to find his phone with a broken screen. "Crap, I don't know where they are."  

"Here," Sam mumbled, cheek still pressed to Dean's shoulder. He fumbled through his pocket and fished out the keys to the Impala. "Used them... to carve... the trap. Sorry." He was panting, due to pain most likely, and Dean could tell from the look on his face that he was gonna pass out soon.  

"Sam, you sly dog," Dean muttered under his breath. He took the Impala's keys from his hands and tossed them in Cas' direction.  

Cas led them out of the place as Dean supported Sam by his left, carrying a part of his weight with him. It took a while for them to find a familiar road.  

"Boys?" A female voice called out to them.  

The three of them turned their heads to see Ellen a few feet behind them, smeared in patches of dirt and light bruises.  

"Ellen," Dean called back, pacing towards her. "What's going on?"  

"I should be asking you the same. What happened to you guys?" Ellen asked, a look of worry on her face shot at Sam.  

The three of them exchanged tired glances at each other before Cas decided to speak.  

"Sam's shoulder is badly fractured," Cas said.  

"And Alastair’s dead," Dean added. "Where is everyone?" He asked.  

Ellen was taken aback by the news, blinking a couple of times to register it. "Jo and Bobby are with the others.”  

"Others?" Cas questioned.   

She nodded. "People. About a dozen. We managed to save some of them."  

Before anything else could be said, Sam's head heavily dropped back to Dean's shoulder. His eyes were barely open.  

Dean cursed in his mind. "Okay. We all need to get out of here quick, before anything else happens."  

++ 

Cas observed as the other man paced frantically in front of him from his seat.  

"He'll be out in a few minutes. He's going to be fine," Cas assured.  

Dean looked up from the floor. "You sure you said 'Christo' correctly? Maybe that doesn't work either way, the nurse could still be possessed by-"  

"Dean, you're overthinking," Cas reminded him. "Again."  

He glanced at him carefully as he slowed down his steps, taking in a few breaths.  

Dean sighed. He walked to the bench Cas sat himself on and took a seat next to him.  

"Yeah. You're right," Dean uttered indifferently. He wasn't relaxed, not in the slightest, judging by the way his palms anxiously fidgeted over his knees.  

Cas used the chance to finally get the contact he longed for. He cupped a palm over Dean's hand, having it eventually stop in its fidgeting.  

Dean turned his hand over to squeeze Cas' palm in return. "Thanks," he said. He relaxed against the wall as Cas calmed him with gentle strokes across his knuckles.  

"So," Cas softly murmured. "Alastair's off the list of our problems," He pointed out. He didn't even know if that was him attempting to lighten up the mood, but Dean gave him a tired smile.  

"Thanks to you," Dean said.  

Cas narrowed his eyes at him. "It wasn't a one-man effort, you know."  

Dean sighed. "Yeah, you and Sam did great."  

"Dean, you were- astounding, out there. Did you forget that?" Cas said.  

Cas held his gaze seriously, waiting for Dean to respond. Dean smiled at him tightly-lipped and leaned himself forward. He softly placed a kiss on his lips, both their mouths dry and chapped, but Cas didn't hesitate to return it shortly.  

"Alright, alright. I'm just glad we're all alive," Dean referred back to him once they pulled away. Cas smiled softly just before Dean's sentence sent Cas a few things of concern to his mind. Were _all_ of them alive?   

"Cas? What's wrong?" Dean asked.  

"I- I think I have to make a call to my brother," Cas said frantically, fumbling with his pocket to slip out his phone.   

Dean stitched his eyebrows at Cas' sudden panic. "Gabriel? But- why so sudden?"  

"I have to make sure he's okay. One of the demons said something about him and-" Cas halted in his speech as he stared at the cracked screen on his phone. "Crap."  

He could sense Dean's eye on him. "Okay, payphones look occupied. But I've got a backup phone in the Impala. Driver's compartment, you'll find it there," Dean explained.  

"Dean Winchester, Sam's brother?" The same nurse's voice appeared in front of them before any other exchange could be done.   

Dean stood up from the bench. "Yeah, that's me."  

"Your brother is free to go. If you could fill up some things before you leave, that would be great," the nurse said. 

Dean nodded. "Oh, okay. Sure," he said. He quickly went through his jacket and handed the Impala's keys to Cas. "Here." 

"Thank you. I'll wait for you there," Cas said, turning to make his leave.

“Sir, are you sure you don’t need any medical assistance?” the nurse asked Dean. Dean looked pretty beaten and it probably hurt like hell to even walk, but he insisted it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

“I’m good, thank you,” Dean answered, sheepishly smiling at her. The nurse then proceeded to leave. "Cas." 

Cas swivelled back to Dean's voice and waited for him to continue.  

Dean scratched the back of his neck nervously and shrugged. "Um. Love you," he muttered. It was adorable enough for Cas' heart to ease up a little.  

Cas softly smiled back at him. "Love you too."  

He took a few short paces to get to the parking lot where the Impala was. He slightly fumbled with the keys out of nervousness before actually getting into the car and finding a phone in the compartment.  

The cram in his head made him forget the last few digits of Gabriel's mobile number.  

He cursed to himself in the car and attempted a few more times, only to get an unknown person's voicemail. Even if he did remember, he was quite sure a person like Gabriel changed his number more often than most.  

"Shit," he cursed again, running a hand through his hair, looking down at his thighs helplessly.  

"Your brother's fine. His deal is off."  

Cas jumped and reflexively reached for the extra gun in the compartment. With a blatant sigh as he saw who it was sat next to him casually in the passenger seat, he dropped his hand.  

"You _have_ to stop doing that," Cas said, wiping a hand over his face in relief. "Why are you here? Everything's been done."  

Crowley stayed silent. He didn't seem like he was replying to Cas' question. "Never thought I'd see the day I'm finally free to plan a vacation," he said with a huff. Cas had no idea why he was telling him that.   

"What made Alastair dangerous was his idiocy. Word goes around that he's intelligent and a mastermind, when really, he had no purpose to look up to. He did whatever he liked to," Crowley continued.  

Cas listened in. "What's plans for Hell now?" He simply asked. It felt incredibly awkward, asking something so surreal with such casualty.  

"Don't know. Don't care much, anymore. Lost the enemy," Crowley uttered, the look on his face somewhat... lost. It was as if he was puzzled by the idea, of not having an enemy in his life.  

Cas wasn't sure if he wanted to question him further about that subject.  

"Alastair couldn't have been killed if it wasn't for something else," Cas said, remembering the events that got him and Dean a few chances to escape. "Dean and I were held down by him, powerfully. And all of a sudden, we weren't. Alastair didn't even realize. How? And why on Earth was everyone so intent on getting a ‘ _prize_ ’?"  

Crowley seemed just as confused as he was. "What are you talking about?"  

"The one who freed us... wasn't you?" Cas questioned.  

"I was powerless. I have no idea what you're-" Crowley paused, collecting a few thoughts together. "Oh."  

"What?" Cas asked.   

Crowley smirked. "Let's just say," he muttered with a sigh. "At times like this, many parties combine forces without so much of knowing."  

His statement ultimately sent Cas jumping to conclusions in his head.

The constant ring of a phone interrupted Cas from questioning further.  

"Nice chatting. Hopefully, we'll never have to again," Crowley said smugly.  

Cas checked the phone in his hands to see an empty screen with no clue of any received call or message.  

"Better take that call, Castiel."  

As Cas whipped his head up, Crowley was no longer next to him or anywhere in his sight. He soon realized the vibration and ringing were coming from his pocket, where his broken phone had been.  

Curiously, he slipped it out carefully and examined it, no longer cracked or of no use.  

An unknown number lighted up on the screen. It didn't take long for Cas to swipe the green call button with a thumb and answer.   

++ 

"Dude, how the hell do you think you're getting away with a fake insurance?"  

Dean rolled his eyes. "We've done it before. And we're getting out of here quick enough. Would you chill?" He said, shooting a glance at Sam as they paced down the hallway.  

Sam heaved a sigh, adjusting his shoulder cast. "Where's Cas?" He asked. "Wow, I need to get used to this thing again."  

"Went outside. Said he needed to call his brother," Dean explained. "Hey, you hungry? I'm starving. Could really use a treat. Not here though. We're champions today, we deserve better."  

"Uh, Dean?"  

"Yeah?" Dean turned to his brother next to him. Sam slowed down his steps, making Dean do the same as well. "Sup?"  

Sam shook his head, a grin slowly forming on his mouth. "Nothing. Just uh, good work?"  

Dean shot him a questioning look. “For what?”  

"I-" Sam smiled again. "Just didn't expect today to go so well."  

"Well?" Dean questioned, gesturing his eyes to the cast on Sam's arm.   

"Could've been way worse," Sam said with a half-shrug, continuing on their walk.  "I mean, he's dead. Finally."  

"Yeah," Dean replied with. _Finally,_ Sam said. Dean wondered if he was that keen on getting out of hunting.  

"You feeling okay?"  

Dean nodded at him, almost raising a hand to clap him on the shoulder before he realized that it would probably hurt like hell.  

"M' fine. Just uh, that was it, huh? Your last one," Dean said. He didn't dare meet Sam's eye as he said it, keeping his head faced straight.  

A silence filled between them for a couple of seconds before Sam cleared his throat.   

"I guess so. Hopefully, I mean," Sam asserted.  

Dean plastered a smile on his face as he turned back to him momentarily and swallowed. "That's it, then. Good job, Sammy. How're we starting here? Baby steps, most important."  

Sam exhaled a laugh. "Um, Dean. It's not a case."  

"I know. But what, you think you can just walk straight in there?"  

"No. But I'm still..." Sam trailed off. He sighed. "Figuring things out. What I want to do, where I'd go first, how I’d get there. Stuff like that."  

Dean raised his hands. "Alright. No pressure. "  

"You gotta promise me something though," Sam added, ducking his head to the floor, voice softening.  

Dean stitched his eyebrows at him. “Okay, what?"  

Sam took a short breath. "You need to try to not help me with this one," he answered.  

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked.  

"Dean, you've given me enough. More than I could ever wish for. But neither of us are gonna live normally if you spoiled me the whole way," Sam explained.   

Dean opened his mouth to protest, and Sam clearly getting the signal, raised a free hand to stop him.  

"I'm just saying," He added. "Let me have this one. I'll do whatever to get myself through. Money-wise, we don't have much to begin with, so... I could do something about that. On my own."  

"Sam, if you don't get some special ride to a fancy college, you can't expect to gather up that much money yourself. I'll help, I'll find some way-"  

Sam halted in his steps. "I've said it already. I just- need a point in my life where I can take care of myself."  

Dean didn't have anything to argue back with, pausing in his tracks as well. Sam sighed. "Look, I'll still try my best to win a scholarship first or whatever. It's not common, but-"  

"Damn right you will," Dean interrupted.  

"I'll do my best," Sam continued. "And if my best isn't as great as everyone seems to think it is, I'll find a way myself."  

Dean pressed his lips tightly, fighting the urge to argue some more. He hated the situation they were in. Sam wanting out, using his God damn puppy eyes while he explained an idea Dean didn't agree with, and wow, they were in the middle of the hospital, and Sam had a broken shoulder, for crying out loud. It definitely didn't help that Sam practically saved all of them from being tortured and killed by a white-eyed demon.  

He also hated that Sam had somewhat of a point in his argument. Dean grew up parenting Sam most of the time. All Dean did was give and give and give, not letting himself get anything in return. Sammy wanted an ice cream cake for his birthday? _There you go, Sammy._ Sammy wanted a new game to play with? _There you go, Sammy_. Sammy wanted to go to college and needed some help telling Dad, which ended up in zero and negative family interaction? _There you go, Sammy._   

Dean grunted, "Fine."  

A second of shock sprawled across Sam's face. His mouth turned into a wide grin. He seemed genuinely happy about his decision, and Dean couldn't help but feel like a proud parent for a moment.  

"Stop it with your happiness, you've got a broken shoulder, and you  _just_ recovered from a broken leg," Dean grumbled, but Sam didn't stop smiling.  

They went on with walking to the parking lot, a few steps from the exit. As Dean pushed open the door and spotted Cas standing by the Impala from a distance with a phone by his ear, Sam smirked.  

"Second promise. You take good care of Cas," he teased.  

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? You're supposed to say that to him, like give your protective brother speech or something."  

Sam shook his head in amusement. The smile on his face wiped away as he stared at Cas for longer.  

"Dean, is he okay?" Sam asked.  

Dean took a closer look at Cas. He hurried his steps a little, nearing the Impala quicker. Cas no longer held the phone to his ear as it sat in his palm in the air. His expression wasn't full of grief, so Dean suspected the news wasn't all bad. Cas looked like he had just been told Santa Claus  _was_  real, or something. Second thing, the phone he held wasn't Dean's backup. It was the one Cas owned. Dean swore it looked way too broken before.  

"Cas?" Dean called as they got close enough. "Everything okay?"  

Cas slowly turned his head to them, acknowledging them for the first time.  

"I um- Gabriel called. He's in a hospital. In Wisconsin," He spoke up.  

"Is he- what happened to him?" Dean asked.   

Cas cleared his throat. "Shifter, apparently. He battled a shifter the same time we battled the demons. He says he's only got minor injuries."  

Dean and Sam took a while to register that.   

"A shifter? One of Alastair's?" Sam asked.  

Cas rubbed the back of his neck. "Seems so."  

"Oh, wow. Well, it's a good thing nothing too serious happened, right?" Dean questioned. "Gabriel's good enough to talk."  

Cas nodded. "Yes. It is good," he stated. He still seemed deep in thought, and Dean couldn't figure his expression that much.   

Before Dean could ask, Cas spoke clearly, hand massaging the back of his head. "There's another thing, actually..."  

Dean and Sam exchanged a quick glance at each other.  

"What?" They asked at the same time.  

Cas swept a palm halfway across his face and turned to them completely, dropping his hand to his side with a sigh.  

"My sister's awake."  

++

Cas' hands shook as they reached the handle. He stepped in with a deep breath, trying his best to ease the knots in his stomach, but only failing to do so.

He couldn't do it alone. He needed someone with him at a time like this, calming him, even in the slightest or most insensitive way.

Anna was awake, Gabriel told him. He remembered the way his voice trembled as he said it, letting out the soft side Gabriel kept tightly in and only let out when it came to either the best or worst times. Cas knew by his voice that he wasn't joking or playing any of his tricks. He believed so.

As Cas finally gathered himself to take another step further, dragging every possible calming thought to set his mind and stomach to ease. He thought about Dean, his lazy smile and tired yet happy eyes, about how wonderful they'd be together after this. He thought about Sam, finally getting to know him better after all the distractions that's went around. Then he thought about Anna, about how he'd finally be able to maybe hear her voice and catch her smiling softly the way he always did.

Cas closed the door behind him before slowly pacing forward. His eyes set upon the edge of the bed, where he could see a bump moving under the white sheets. He guessed it was Anna's feet, adjusting to everything. He wondered if it was necessary to call out to her since the nurse outside said she was hardly responsive to most things and still needed time to recover.

Before Cas could take that last step, the door behind him clicked open, making his heart skip a beat.

"Oh- I'm so sorry. I wasn’t told there would be a guest. Here to re-supply her medication. They're important," a nurse whispered as she walked in. He recognized her from the few visits he had paid, but they had never spoken before.

He nodded and stepped to the side to let her pass through. He still only saw Anna's feet from where he stood.

"Castiel, her brother, right? Are you gonna...?" The nurse asked, turning around to him while she gestured her head towards the inner part of the room.

Cas let his mouth part open for a few seconds before answering. "First time in a long time," he finally said, soft enough for it to come out as a whisper.

The nurse smiled in his direction. "She's doing well. Not aggressive like some. I'll help you."

Cas put a hand over his mouth as the nurse, Tessa, he suddenly remembered, walked forward with the tray of new medication in her hands. He stepped back as Tessa called out her name. Panic started flooding his thoughts, leaving his throat caught and eyes on the verge of welling up.

"Anna?" She called twice, and then smiled.

Cas didn't hear her respond with her voice, but by looking at the sudden movement of her feet, he guessed Anna had given a slight response to her name.

"There's someone here to see you," Tessa said gently. She darted her eyes to Cas, silently asking him to step forward. She put the tray down on a desk and walked to him again, smiling his way. She rubbed a hand against his arm, managing to calm him a bit, and walked back out the door to give them the privacy they needed.

Cas began thinking of peaceful things again. He deepened and steadied his breaths, swallowing down his anxiety as he walked forward.

It sent relief down his spine the moment he saw her, to see she was really, actually okay, and somewhat managed to keep the same peaceful expression on her face. Her gaze was drifted away from him, eyes set on the window next to her. She was in lying position, head slightly lifted by the half-upright pillow supporting it.

"Anna?" Cas finally spoke out, avoiding the stutter that had been threatening to fool him.

Her eyes widened as she looked at him with a turn of the head. She blinked a few times with a blank expression. Then she scrunched her eyebrows, staring at him with curious eyes, right before her face changed again.

"Cas..." She murmured. "Tiel?"

Cas sighed with a wave of relief, nodding as he stepped closer to her quickly. "Yes. Yes, Anna."

"Castiel," she said again. "Cas." Her mouth stayed open in shock and spread into a smile. "My- brother? Cas...tiel. Yes."

Cas stood in her space and wrapped his arms around her as most as he could with the small amount she could move. "Yes, Anna, it's me," He said into her shoulder. "It's me."

He held her tightly, not expecting her to do the same, but the moment Anna squeezed back the slightest bit, he didn't bother fighting back the tears. Her sobbing was definitely more obvious than his, but they stayed like that for a while.

++

"Has Gabriel seen you yet?" Cas asked. "Anna?" He had to call her name to get her attention properly.

Anna's eyes wondered elsewhere for a moment before redirecting to him. "Gabriel," she said.

"Have you seen him?" Cas asked patiently.

Anna shook her head slowly. "No."

According to the doctor, Anna spoke for the first time since her awakening two days ago, when she saw Cas. It must've been recognizing a person so well that made her speak actual words.

Cas wanted to ask more, but a person who just woke up from a one-year coma couldn't exactly function that way so quickly.

He caught her eyes drooping as her head laid back in the pillow. Cas showed her a smile.

"You need some rest. I'll go first," Cas informed her.

"Don't-!" Anna almost yelled. "Don't leave," she pleaded, shaking her head.

He neared her, petting her hair. "I'm not leaving this place. I'm staying. But you need some rest. When you're awake, I'll be here. I promise."

Anna hesitated but nodded eventually, relaxing herself in the hospital bed. She closed her eyes slowly. It almost hurt for Cas to see her like that again.

Tessa told him how Anna's been fighting so hard ever since she emerged. It took a couple of attempts to get her to sleep and get some rest the first time, but Anna stayed strong and believed in herself. Cas smiled when he heard that, as that was what he admired of her the most.

After a few minutes of making sure she was fully asleep, Cas quietly made his way out of the room and proceeded to call Gabriel.

" _Heya, Cas."_

"Where are you? You said you'd be here," Cas stated. Gabriel panted through the phone as if he'd just run a full mile. "Gabe?"

 _"Yeah. I'm here. Actually here.  Basement floor,"_ Gabriel said into the phone. He let out one heavy sigh.

Cas scrunched his eyebrows. "What are you doing down there? And why do you sound like you _ran_ here?"

 _"Got my pants caught in something. Hey- I don't think I'm coming up there,"_ Gabriel added.

"What? Why not? You haven't seen her yet." Cas heard a low groan come from the phone. "Gabriel, are you alright?"

Gabriel cleared his throat. _"Yeap, totally okay!"_ He yelped. _"Just about, ten seconds from passing out, that's all."_

"What? I'm coming to get you, what happened?" Cas said firmly, turning his way to the nearest staircase. The elevator looked too busy for urgency.

_"I'll tell you when you get here. Second basement floor."_

"Can you tell me where you are exactly?" Cas asked.

" _All the way at the back. Uh- 9- R? R9. I think that's what I see,"_ Gabriel exhaled.

Cas nodded to himself, even when he knew Gabriel couldn't see him. "Can you stay with me on the line?"

 _“Yeah, because that would definitely help,”_ Gabriel replied sarcastically.

The other end filled with silence right before the phone dropped with a thud. "Gabe? Gabriel?"

Cas sighed as the call ended. He rushed down three flights of stairs to get to the second basement. He couldn't believe everything that just happened- happened in one day.

Swinging the doors open, he frantically searched for R9. Soon enough he spotted the letter R at the back, and with quick paces toward it, his eyes set on a foot that ledged out of the corner of the pillar.

"Gabriel!"

Cas froze at the sight of what wasn't Gabriel, but a much taller, larger figure on the ground faced down. He took a step towards it, sensing a familiarity, but a rough cough stopped his movements.

"Right here."

Cas whipped his head up at the voice, landing his eyes on his actual brother this time.

He rushed forward the moment he saw Gabriel, back leaned against the pillar with his legs on the ground.

"What happened?" Cas asked, kneeling down next to him.

Gabriel coughed. "Shifter. _Shifters_. Sibling shifters. Angry, so angry," he mumbled. Splotches of sweat stuck to his face, wetting the sides of his face.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Nah. Just passed out after running a thousand miles, that's all," Gabriel breathed out with a light shrug. "And well, that shifter heard about the identity of his dead brother's killer, so. Took some time to take that one out too."

Cas turned his head and eyed the shifter's body opposite them, swallowing difficultly. "The same one I encountered today. I'm hoping that's all of them," He said.

"Yeah, no kidding," Gabriel huffed out. "Hey- I kinda need a lift here, bro."

Cas took his eyes of the shifter's body and stood up, holding his arms out. He helped Gabriel up with a strong pull, having him collapse partially on Cas.

Gabriel groaned. "My legs are killing me."

"We're at a hospital. I'll get you help," Cas muttered. "You look terrible."

"Thanks. No, you don't have to. I'm fine," Gabriel said, steadying himself.

Cas rolled his eyes at him. "You're clearly not."

"I'll be fine soon enough. I just-" Gabriel paused. "Right now I just want to see Anna."

Cas sighed at his brother, who really did look too terrible to see anyone. But it was Anna, the reason they were both here at the same time. "Fine. But after that you're getting yourself checked."

"I won't!" Gabriel teased. "I'll be fine, as always."

Cas rolled his eyes again with a shake of his head. "We should go now," He said, turning his head to the way out.

"Uh, Cas?"

Cas turned his attention back to Gabriel, who simply pointed out the direction opposite them with a thumb.

"Can't just leave the body like that, bucko."

++

_"So, your brother took on two shifters by himself?"_

"Yes. One of them was me, the other was Sam."

_"What?"_

"I mean- they looked like us. Is Sam alright?" Cas said into the phone. He darted his eyes up from the floor, landing them on Gabriel, who was much cleaner and less tired looking. Gabriel slowly walked toward to where Anna laid.

 _"Uh, yeah. He's fine, despite the broken shoulder and all. I mean, right now he's treating himself to geeky movies and popcorn,"_ Dean said _. "I swear, sometimes I think he purposely does this to get pampered."_

Cas let a small smile appear at the corner of his mouth. "And you?"

A sigh escaped from the other line.

_"Me? Well, I'm me."_

"Dean. How are you?" Cas asked. Looking through the small window, Gabriel was no longer standing where he was. He and Anna probably hugged from where nobody could see.

_"'M good. Seriously. I'm glad everything that happened is... over, and that we're the closest to safe. And I'm glad you called. Was a little worried for a while."_

Cas sighed softly. "Yes. I'm sorry, I just had a lot on my mind."

 _"No, don't- it's fine. I'm happy you're okay. And that your family's okay,"_ Dean added. His voice softened on the other end, and Cas assumed Sam or Bobby walked in.

Cas looked back up as Gabriel appeared in front of him through the window again, just several feet away from the door. He beckoned Cas to enter, did some signs which Cas guessed were meant to speak "She wants to see you". Cas held up his index finger and pointed at his phone.

"I'm glad you and Sam are okay too. Dean, I- I have to go soon. I'll talk to you later," Cas said.

_"Yeah, okay."_

"Also, I..." Cas trailed off. A pause filled among them before he continued, "I'm most likely staying around Wisconsin for a while. To take care of Anna, and to possibly start tolerating Gabriel again."

_"Oh- yeah, I get that. I gotta hang around Sam too. So..."_

"It means I won't be seeing you for a while," Cas finalised.

Dean hummed. _"And how long is 'a while' exactly, for us again?"_

Cas smirked. "Three months was our most."

_"Wait, you don't really mean-"_

"I'm changing my words to a _short_ while. Two weeks maybe," Cas said. Gabriel appeared in front of him again, beckoning for him to enter the room.

 _"Wow. Well, we've gone longer than that. Can't be too bad I guess,"_ Dean teased.

"Alright, I really need to go now. I'll be sure to- call and text you regularly," Cas said as he held up a finger at Gabriel again. "I love you."

 _"Okay. I love you too,"_ Dean replied _. "Shut up, Sam!"_

Cas smiled at Sam's teasing, grateful to hear the slight of his voice after seeing the shifter's body that way.

 _"Sorry. Yeah, I love you. Have a fun reunion,"_ Dean added. _"Bye."_

"Bye," Cas said back. He quickly ended the call and sighed at his phone.

The closed door in front of him creaked open. Gabriel poked half himself out, staring at him with raised eyebrows.

"Cas, if you don't get in here now, all of us are gonna start hating each other again."

Cas shook his head, attempting to hide the light smile on his face. "I'm done."

Gabriel opened the door wider for him to enter, shooting a glance at him and his phone. Cas walked in, eventually meeting Anna again that day. She sat up against the bed that time. She noticed his presence right away and smiled at him.

"Who were you talking to for so long?" She asked smoothly, crossing her arms against her waist.

Cas shyly smiled back, momentarily looking down at his phone. He chewed the side of his lip and let it go quickly.

"His name's Dean," Cas answered plainly. "How are you feeling?" He asked, pulling a chair to take a seat on her right.

Gabriel whistled across the room. "So you _did_ get dance-y with him!"

"You have a boyfriend?" Anna questioned.

"I wouldn't-" Cas paused. Was he really going to continue with "call him my boyfriend"?

"You do!"

Cas sighed. "We can discuss Dean some other time. I just want to know how you're feeling."

Anna partially rolled her eyes at him. "I'm okay," she answered. "Just a bit- blank. On everything."

Cas pondered and exchanged a couple or glances with Gabriel at that.

"How blank?" Gabriel asked, stepping forward as he moved to the other side of Anna's bed.

Anna shrugged, switching her gaze to the window. "The last thing I remember is... _skydiving_ ," she said with a slight smile and a shake of her head.

Cas looked at Gabriel immediately, who looked right back at him in confusion.

"When did you go skydiving?" Gabriel asked.

Anna looked confused as well. "I don't know," she said. She looked away for a few moments, pondering on the thought. "I was with my friends. I was upset, and I wanted to go skydiving," she added.

Cas had no idea what to think, whether it was normal for someone who just got out of a coma to start thinking so quickly. He opened his mouth to interject, but Anna went on.

"We had a fight. You and me, didn't we?" Anna questioned, slowly turning her head to point her look at Gabriel. "That's why I was upset."

Gabriel's eyes sunk to the floor. "Anna-"

"What were we fighting about?" Anna asked, cutting him off.

Cas looked at Gabriel, confused on what was being discussed, because Gabriel hadn't mentioned a fight before. Or a fight so bad that lead Anna to go skydiving, off all things.

"What fight was this?" Cas asked him.

Gabriel let out a small sigh, shrugging his shoulders. Anna frowned at him from where she sat. She blinked a few times, as if trying to recall as much as possible.

By each second, more waves of memories hit her straight in the face. Anna looked up, keeping her eye on Gabriel. "Oh my God. I remember now."

"You don't have to-"

"Monsters exist, and you hunt them. _Both_ of you," Anna cut Gabriel silent again, switching glances between her two brothers.

That statement seemed to cut the entire room silent, because Cas was busy glaring the hell out of Gabriel and hoping for someone underneath to saw the part of the floor from where he was standing.

Anna pondered a bit more, registering and recalling every fact she could remember.

"So," she broke the silence, looking down at her arms before crossing them against her waist.

"Would anybody care to fill me in?"


	9. Thank You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There was so much fluff in this that I had to avert my eyes and take breaks while editing.

_***_

_If the sun refused to shine,_

_I would still be loving you._

_When mountains crumble to the sea,_

_There will still be you and me._

_***_

 

It’d been two weeks since the battle with the demons and Alastair. Cas and Dean had decided it was best to take some time away from each other, with responsibilities of spending time and taking care of their siblings heavy on their shoulders. Anna just settled down in her apartment two floors above Cas', after Cas visiting and staying with her nearly every day to make sure she was okay. Gabriel, as always, had gone into hiding, after checking himself out of the hospital without Cas’ knowledge. He left a note this time that he'd be back sooner than Cas thought, and despite Cas’ worry plus frustration towards him, he actually felt slightly thankful for it.

Cas did keep in contact with Dean though, few texts and calls here and there. Although he was the one who initiated the decision to have some space, thinking it was for the best, he didn’t very much like it. Not having Dean around settled with an uneasy loneliness caving him. It had only been a week and he already missed watching him laugh and smile at some old cartoon on the couch. He missed the way Dean would look at him after that and blush, and then mutter something about how his creepy staring would get him in trouble one day. He missed their simple routine, and despite the dark time it secretly was for them, the days they spent together in Cas’ apartment were great. Cas couldn’t wait for more.

Cas’ eyes flickered to the wooden clock on the wall for what he counted was the tenth time in probably, ten minutes. Dean was supposed to get here ten minutes ago and he’d text if something came up. Cas sighed and momentarily wondered if he should get some coffee in the meantime. Maybe he could prepare coffee for the both of them, and drink the other cup up if Dean doesn’t come. Damn it, Cas, as Dean would say, stop worrying yourself over nothing.

It was that moment when the doorbell rang. Or buzzed. Cas wasn’t sure how to describe the sound of his raspy, ancient doorbell.

Cas got up from the couch instantly, increasing concern coming at him with every step he took towards the door. All that worry washed away as he swung the door open and came face-to-face with the man who looked far too good all the time. Dean smiled openly at him, and Cas was sure his expression was the same as well.

They didn’t say anything. Cas’ eyes softened as Dean moved toward him and wrapped two open arms around his shoulders. He held onto him tightly while Cas moved his own arms underneath his. He tried not to laugh when Dean clutched a fist into his shirt, and let it out as a content sigh against Dean’s neck. Dean buried his face into his neck, murmuring words Cas couldn’t quite make out of.

It was probably the appropriate time to let go, but Cas didn’t like the idea of doing so. His hands still lingered on Dean’s back as he took in the familiar scent of his leather jacket.

“Dean,” he said once, very, very quietly.

“Yeah,” Dean replied with a small chuckle. “I’m here.”

Before they could fully pull away, Dean pressed a hand on Cas’ lower back and closed the gap between them again. Cas almost stumbled. And blushed.

“Hi,” Dean said, his mouth twisting into a cocky grin.

“H-hi,” Cas said, shyly smiling and lowering his head to look at the floor.

Dean laughed. “Is this suddenly too close for you?”

“Not at all,” Cas murmured, shaking his head. He smirked and put his own arms around Dean’s hips, pulling them even closer.

Dean raised his eyebrows as one of those hands cupped his ass nicely. Cas mirrored his actions of biting back a smile, until the both of them couldn’t hold it any longer.

Dean burst out laughing, and so did Cas not a second after. “We’re not sexy at all. It’s gross,” Dean said.

“Is it because of my age?” Cas teased.

“Probably,” Dean said back shortly, eyes focusing more on Cas’ mouth as he leaned in.

Cas beat him to it and kissed him first, startling Dean a little right before easing his lips slowly with Cas’. Dean hummed softly, settling his hands on Cas’ back again. Cas leaned his body in closer, incredibly into it, until he felt something soft tickle against his lower back. He pulled away from the kiss in surprise, popping his eyes open.

“Um- what do you have behind my back?” He asked curiously.

“Oh, uh. Right yeah, I just uh-” Dean halted mid-sentence, removing his hands and quickly putting them behind his own back. A flash of yellow in his right hand was all Cas could get a sight of.

“What was that?”

“Uh, it’s not-” Dean paused, clearly struggling to put a sentence together. Cas quirked his eyebrows in confusion as he glanced at him questioningly, waiting for him to make a bit of sense.

Dean blushed furiously, heaved a sigh, and looked to the floor before holding out his right hand in front of him. Cas stared at his hand in awe, flickering his eyes around the unexpected thing Dean’s fingers gently wrapped around.

“Dean…”

“Just take it. C’mon, please- don’t embarrass me,” Dean shyly said, still refusing to make eye contact with him.

A large grin grew on Cas’ face. He looked at the single sunflower again, with its bright yellow petals surrounding the large brown centre of seeds, some slightly out of place in just the _right_ way Cas liked it to be. Its green stem twisted imperfectly with three hairy leaves creeping forward, the very last points facing the ground.

Cas took it in his hand, trying to relax his over-winning grin when Dean’s flushed and frowning and looking away in front of him. Cas didn’t hesitate to cup a hand under Dean’s chin, forcing him to look up before swiftly pressing their lips together again.

“Thank you.”

“Hm.” Dean eased up with a curl of his lip upwards as his eyes met Cas’.

“Where’d you get it?” Cas asked.

“Plucked it from one of the people’s gardens on the street,” Dean admitted, and Cas laughed.

“Of course you did. How’d you know sunflowers were my favourite?”

“Uh, you mentioned it once,” Dean said, another blush slowly creeping onto his cheeks.

Cas loved the fact that Dean remembered something he didn’t even realize he said out loud. He smiled softly as his eyes darted to the flower in his hand.

“I’ll go find some place to put this. Best by the window in the kitchen,” Cas muttered as he stepped away. He twiddled the yellow flower in his hand, pausing before he could step a distance too far from Dean.

“And you, Dean…”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

Cas brushed a hand on his shoulder, smile growing wider. “You make yourself at home.”

++

Dean waited patiently at the couch for Cas to come back, back slumped against it, arm hanging loosely in a relaxed manner. He almost smiled as he thought about the memories they painted here together. With a shuffle of footsteps he snapped his head up to see Cas pacing towards him with both hands full.

“Uh, what’chu got there?” Dean asked, a corner of his mouth pulling up with a surprised smile.

Cas innocently bit his inner cheek as he glanced down at Dean. “They’re milkshakes. Banana.”

“Are you serious?”

“I thought they’d be nice. Why, do you not want yours? I can take it away.”

“No no no no no, give it to me,” Dean protested, sitting up as he eyed the glass like it was heaven on earth.

Cas willingly gave it to him, a smug little smile forming on his mouth. He took a seat next to Dean, creating a small space between them, but just big enough for them to feel comfortable.

“Why do you get a straw and I don’t?” Dean asked, observing the difference between the two glasses.

“Because for one, you said yourself you’d die a thousand times before you’d give into using such a thing. And two, I get to see you with a milkshake moustache,” Cas said proudly.

Dean raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side as if he was offended. “Yeah?”

Cas shrugged, the lighting playfully gleaming at the corner of his eyes.

Dean smirked, looked down at the tall glass that filled with a blended mixture of bananas, milk, and from what Dean could smell, a good amount of vanilla ice cream. He took an exaggerated sip, purposely letting the liquid slide over his mouth as he tasted how exceptionally _delicious_ the shake actually was. It was so good he almost forgot he had milkshake foam for a moustache.

“Holy- do all banana milkshakes even taste like that? When did you even make this stuff?” Dean curiously asked, before taking another rich sip.

Cas looked at him, not answering any of Dean’s questions, but he looked. His cheeks were slightly flushed, eyes contently keeping its place to Dean, and a bit-back smile worn on his mouth that he could break out of at any minute.

Dean peered up at him confusedly, still unconcerned about the thickness of his foam moustache above his upper lip. “What?”

Cas’ smile broke into a toothy grin. “Nothing,” he muttered.

“So what, you’re gonna let this thing stay on my face?” Dean asked.

Cas’ mouth pressed back into a closed smile. He shrugged, taking a sip of his own drink. Dean kept his eyes on him, the milk foam on his mouth beginning to itch and irritate him minimally. Cas placed his glass and Dean’s on the coffee table in front of them, sighing shortly as he looked at Dean’s mouth again. He cupped Dean’s face with two hands, turning his head to press their mouths together. Dean wasn’t surprised, responding well by kissing back and leaning his body further in towards Cas. He pressed a hand against Cas’ back as Cas moved his mouth with his, sucking along Dean’s upper lip where the milk foam no longer was. He could’ve sworn Cas almost laughed.

“Missed a spot,” Cas uttered when Dean pulled the slightest bit away. He planted a soft kiss on the corner of Dean’s curved mouth, then another, and another.

“No you didn’t, dickwad!” Dean teased, but still gave in anyway as Cas’ lips met his again. He hummed contently, loving the feeling of getting to kiss Cas normally and not having to ache for it any longer. “You’re amazing,” Dean muttered under his breath, their lips brushing after pulling apart. He didn’t mean to say it aloud, but it was nothing he regretted.

“And you’re wonderful,” Cas returned with. “And I’m glad you’re here,” he added on.

Compliments weren’t their usual thing, but Dean loved the rare moments of them.

“Me too,” Dean said back with a believing smile. “I haven’t had any kind of milkshake since I was maybe nineteen, you know that?” he suddenly admitted.

Cas beamed at him peacefully in return. “How’ve you been? Since…?” he asked, slightly pulling his head back to put an arm on the top of the couch cushion.

Dean paused for a few seconds. He shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. “How I’ve been? It’s been- well, _fine_. I mean, Sam’s still a bitch to take care of, when is he not?” He joked, attempting to light up the mood as he took a quick sip from his glass and placed it back on the table.

“Dean. I’m serious.”

Cas did stare at him with that same, stern expression he always wore when they met the first few times, but it mixed with a new kind of worry Dean had to learn to get used to. Dean looked back at him, his eyelids drooping. “I’m okay, really. It hasn’t been that bad at all. The first few days, maybe, but I’m- actually fine, Cas. More fine than I thought I was gonna be. Seriously,” Dean convinced, easing the end of a sentence with a smile.

Cas kept quiet, studying Dean’s expression for any hint of lies or insecurity. He nodded. “Okay. That’s good. So… Sam? How’s his leg- arm?” he corrected himself quickly.

Dean felt thankful for Cas’ trust in him. “He’s getting better, he just orders me to do stuff on purpose. I’m telling you, I’m a freaking nursemaid over there. He makes me put toothpaste on his toothbrush every morning  _and_ night. And Bobby’s suddenly implying he’s got weak ankles, making me all Cinderella up the Singer household,” he complained.

Cas snickered, listening in as he took a sip from his straw. “Does that make me your Prince Charming?”

“Oh hell no, there’s no way I’m letting you take that prince suit,” Dean said. The mention of Sam sent a thought Dean had been trying his best to ignore.

_Sam actually thinking of going to college again._

_Sam probably going to college again._

_Sam moving away._

_Sam getting out._

_Everybody leaves you, Dean._

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Dean hadn’t even realized how long he had been thinking. He stayed silent, even after Cas snapping him out of his thoughts. Cas could tell something was up, and it was already a few seconds too late to make a lame excuse.

“What’s wrong?” Cas gently asked, shifting closer in his seat.

Dean shook his head. “Nothing, I just, uh… can I ask you something? But you have to be completely honest with me.”

“Of course,” Cas answered. His eyes practically begged for contact with Dean’s.

“Right. So, if you ever had the chance to be… someone living a normal life again, would you?”

Cas certainly hadn’t been expecting such a question, his brows raising in surprise followed by a pensive, yet hesitant look as if he was contemplating on answering it at all.

“I… I don’t really think about that,” Cas said.

 _Of course._ Dean propped his head downwards, doing his best not to let out any kind of sigh. Cas bit the inner of his cheek, eyes averted away, far away from Dean.

“Well, think about it,” Dean would have blurted out first, after a long, paused moment, but Cas beat him to a sentence.

“It’s hard to tell,” Cas added. His body position faced Dean again, elbow placed on the surface of the couch cushion as his palm cupped the side of his head.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the obvious choice any hunter would make is to get out of this- supernatural life, if given the chance,” Cas explained.

Dean felt a slight pull at his chest. Cas was still considered new to this compared to some others, no matter how good he really turned out to be. He could go, just like Sam, back to his job, old life, and family, even if that was going to take a while.

“But I don’t think I’m capable of doing that so quickly,” Cas continued, adding a broken smirk at the end of his sentence. “I hated my old job anyway.”

“Cas.”

“I’m serious,” Cas affirmed. Dean wasn’t sure on which thing he implemented on for a while. “This _life_ , it scared me, it still does. Yes, I had a normal, everyday human lifestyle, but that was all before things got to the beginning of _bad_.  Then it got really bad, and I didn’t know what I could possibly do next. Now, I know things, plenty of things.”

“I know. But- I’m just saying, you once mentioned that killing Alastair; that was the mission, that was the reason, you know,” Dean said, trying to make some kind of point.

“I did. But that was before I fell in love with you.”

Cas’ eyes lingered on him, Dean letting the contact remain for a few seconds before bringing his gaze to the floor. “So you’re in this for me?” Dean asked. He hated it; the idea of Cas having to torture himself with living this messed up, crappy life when he could go other places.

“When you put it like that, it sounds like you’re _making_ me,” Cas retorted.

“Am I?” Dean asked.

“What- _no_. Dean,” Cas started softly. He moved closer and waited for Dean to look back at him, which he did. Cas parted his lips, then closed them, as if he was thinking of what to really say. “You told me to be honest, and I am. I- _want_ to be with you. And all this hunting, after everything I've seen- I can't go back.”

Dean remained silent, figuring what he could possibly reply or argue with next. Instead, he tugged a tiny corner of his mouth upwards as a response, followed by a light sigh.

“Is it so hard to believe all of that?” Cas asked in a quiet voice, a little too quiet for anyone within two feet to hear. His expression might have shown a slice of hurt.

Dean shook his head. “No, hey. I get it, I do. I’m just relieved.”

Cas studied him for a bit, and then looked to Dean’s palm. “What’s this about?”

Dean sighed, slumping his shoulders, deciding to give in.

“It’s Sam.”

Cas had probably guessed it earlier, telling from his unsurprised look. “What about him?”

“He uh… he wants out. He wants to go to college, have a life. Don’t know when, but he’s gonna,” Dean explained.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good for him. Sam’s smart and determined, I wouldn’t be surprised if he got into _law school_ on the first try,” Cas added.

“Hm,” Dean replied, drifting his eyes away again. He sensed a slight change in Cas’ posture, probably leaning closer to himself.

“It doesn’t mean he’s going to walk out of your life forever. He’s your brother,” Cas assured.

 _Hmph, coming from the guy who dropped contact with his own brother for more than a year._ Dean mentally shook that thought away before he could do something stupid like say it aloud. _Asshole thought, Dean Winchester._

“I know. But he’s walked out before. Few months before my dad died, they both got in a huge fight. Sam wanted out real bad, Dad didn’t like the idea. So boom, debating and yelling, slamming doors- he was only 20 at the time. But he left, got into a community college in a snap. Aced his classes, met Jessica. Dude was so freakin’ smart, Stanford offered him a place when he applied.”

Cas listened in attentively, keeping his eyes on Dean as he watched him talk.

“Then uh, things got heavy. Jessica died, and three days later he got the call about my dad. That was the first time I spoke to him in months, no contact at all, could you believe that? I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend,” Dean finished off with. He didn’t like thinking about that specific time period when him and Sam practically never existed to each other. He didn’t like thinking about any of this. 

Cas slid a palm over his, getting Dean’s attention. “Things are different now. You and Sam have been through a lot together, you’ve learned your- crap. I won’t let anything completely drive you two away from each other anyway, though I doubt my help would be necessary.” He hovered his body forward for his banana shake and took a small sip. As his palm still rested on the back of Dean’s nicely, Dean pulled out a thumb from below and lightly stroked the edge of Cas’ wrist.

“Yeah, thanks,” Dean said, allowing his head to rest on the couch cushion. He looked down at their hands, soft against each other, intimately and half-way intertwined. Cas really knew how to fucking touch, and Dean loved it, no matter how much he’d care to admit it. When Dean was at Bobby’s, spending time and taking care of Sam, he’d catch himself fondling with his own fingers, playing at them the same way Cas did. Sam would catch him too, but bless the kid, he didn’t bring it up. He might have even tried to hide a pitying look.

One week apart was already enough to do this to him. Dean hadn’t even remembered what was it like for that four weeks of Cas being MIA. He tried not to think about that. Everything related to that was in the past; Alastair. Alastair was dead, for real and for good, with no possible way of coming back. Dean tried not to think about the demons left behind, though.

“And you? How’re you doing?” Dean asked, after several moments of thinking and simply staring at the way Cas’ hands moved. “With Gabriel, Anna… what you do in this place when I’m not around,” Dean said, lighting up a smirk across his face, followed by a wink.

Cas shook his head and smiled. “Probably not the images that are in your head right now.”

“C’mon, not one time, in your bedroom, at night maybe?” Dean continued to tease.

“How mature of you,” Cas replied. “I was barely staying in this apartment. Anna just settled down in her own, and she'd kill me if she saw my face another time. I dropped off her favourite films, books, snacks yesterday. She says she can’t wait to meet you,” he went on, adding a soft laugh at the end of his sentence.

“You talked to her about me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

With the way Cas was looking at him, Dean thought, _yeah, there’s no way you’re not getting laid soon enough_.

“And I’ve been fine. I’m definitely more than fine now,” Cas muttered. Dean felt another brush across his knuckles. “Speaking of fine; movie time?”

Dean would’ve asked him how the word ‘fine’ and ‘movie’ related to each other, but he didn’t. Studying the gleaming light of hope in the pair of blue eyes he already knew too well, he grinned.

“Definitely.”

++

“So uh, Anna’s favourites are basically your favourites, which means most of them are at her place...” Cas said, after God knows how many minutes of shuffling through a bunch of DVDs.

“Jeez, Cas, it’s okay. Just pick one, I’m fine with anything,” Dean assured from the couch. _Get the hell over here and screw me already._

Cas ignored him, keeping a pensive look as he studied the covers of two films. He bit his lip, looked up, and showed Dean a shy, tight-lipped smile.

“You- you pick one yet?” Dean asked, suddenly fazed by the look Cas was giving him.

“No. You’re picking between these two.”

Cas held out two DVDs and stepped closer to him; both Dean recognized as Clark Gable movies, one he hadn’t watched before, and one he’d fallen asleep to, for reasons other than being bored of it.

Dean cleared his throat. “I uh, I’ve watched that before, but not _that_. _It Happened One Night._ Yeah, that’s one of your favourites, right? You mentioned it once,” he said, popping a few popcorn pieces in his mouth.

Cas smirked and attempted to hide it immediately, only having him smile wider.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just like how you remember the small things.”

Dean could barely respond to that, as Cas turned around and supposedly ‘dropped’ one of the DVDs to the floor after taking _two_ steps.

 _Shit,_ was what Dean thought, because Cas was bent down, taking his time to pick up a damn DVD, and his ass stuck out perfectly _fine_ in that maybe coincidentally perfect hugging jeans. Dean felt his throat go tight at the image, and even had to sit up straighter to not look too out of it. Cas dropped it another time, only an inch away from the floor. Yeah, the bastard definitely did that on purpose.

“Challenge accepted,” Dean whispered to himself.

“What?”

“Nothing. Uh, what’s this movie about?”

“It’s about um, a man and a woman, unfortunately,” Cas lazily explained as he placed the DVD into the player.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I get that.”

“Just see for yourself, it’s a nice classic,” Cas mumbled. He propped himself on the couch next to Dean, removing his shoes before lifting his legs to fold against him like the child he was at heart, despite all the shit he’s seen.

Dean loved him for small reasons such as that.

Cas’ gaze averted from the screen to the bucket of popcorn in Dean’s hands and popped some into his mouth, pressing his back against the cushion. The opening credits played, the one-minute classical instrumental filling the atmosphere. He knew Cas loved the sound of it, so tried to sneak a few sideway glances to see how he looked, but to no avail, he couldn’t do it without looking suspicious.

Dean leaned back in his seat as well, not knowing Cas’ arm had already been there to curl around him perfectly. Fingers brushed automatically against his arm, another thing Cas liked to do.

Dean watched him from there as he got a better view of Cas. The small smile that never seemed to have left ever since Dean got here tugged a little further upwards. A clear look of admiration towards the screen was there, and Dean wondered if he’d be getting any attention throughout the movie at all.

Cas turned his head to him, not showing the slightest surprise as if he knew Dean was staring the whole time.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Dean defended with a shrug.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

The classical instrumental still played in the background, and they were actually looking at each other with no words spoken, and _yeah,_ Dean thought, _my life is a fucking 30s movie._

Cas was the first to laugh first and shake his head and Dean easily followed with a chuckle. They really didn’t make sense sometimes, but Dean couldn’t wish for anything more real.

++

“What- did she just jump in the water?”

“Yes.”

“Hm, I like her.”

“Wait till you see Peter.”

++

“Mm okay, he looks way better here than he did in _Gone with the Wind_ ,” Dean announced.

“Of course he does, the movies are a decade apart,” Cas said. He turned his head back, eyes not leaving the screen as he spoke to Dean. “And maybe because he’s wearing my coat.”

Dean laughed. _His_ coat, pfft, as if that was the first thing he thought of.

“So if he wasn’t wearing _your_ coat?”

“Then you probably wouldn’t have pointed out how good looking he is,” Cas remarked.

His sight surveyed to Dean, noticeably lowering his eyes to his lips. He stared at them for a few moments until he looked back to the television and shook his head.

“No distractions.”

Dean huffed. “I’m sorry, _I’m_ the one distracting _you_?”

“I just said no distractions,” Cas reaffirmed.

Dean raised his hands in surrender and grinned tight-lipped, navigating his focus back to the movie. He was already enjoying it in the first few minutes, loving the script, the acting and where the movie seemed to be headed.

He still felt Cas’ hand brushing against his jacket, an arm just hanging around his shoulder, instead of cupping it and pulling him in. He let his head fall back onto the cushion, his hair probably tickling the side of Cas’ arm.

He didn’t say anything when Cas leaned in toward him and kissed him on the cheek. He didn’t argue, or give some snide remark that would’ve been “no distractions my ass”, or even roll his eyes. Instead, Dean gratefully looked at him from the side, and felt Cas pull him in closer.

++

**_“You can’t go around bothering my tenants! I tell you, there’s no girl by that name here!”_ **

Cas smiled at him. “This is my favourite scene.”

Dean made sure to pay attention to it. The camera cut back to a worried-looking Peter and Ellie as the detective’s voices echoed from outside the room.

**“Detectives!”**

**“Oh! That’s father at work- Peter, what’ll I do? What’ll I do? Maybe I can jump out the window, they won’t see me-”**

Dean started to smile as well. “They’ve got chemistry.”

**_“These men are detectives, Mr Warne.”_ **

**“I don’t care if they’re the whole police department. They can’t come busting in here, shooting questions at my wife!”**

**“Now don’t get so excited, Peter, the man just asked a civil question.”**

**“Oh, is that so? Say, how many times have I told you to stop butting in when I’m having an argument?”**

**“Well, you don’t have to lose your temper!”**

**“‘You don’t have to lose your temper!’ That’s what you said the other time, too. Every time I try to protect you. The other night, at the Elks Dance, when that big Swede made a pass at you!”**

Dean threw his head back in laughter at Peter’s mocking voice. “I swear, fake _them_ ’s just like you and me.”

Cas shook his head. “We’re worse.”

**“Aw, nuts! You’re just like your old man! Once a plumber’s daughter, always a plumber’s daughter! There isn’t an ounce of brains in your family!”**

**“Oh, Peter Warne, you’ve gone far enough, I won’t stand for it anymore!”**

**“Aw, shut up!”**

**_“Now you see what you’ve done?!”_ **

**_“Sorry, Mr Warne. But you see, we’ve got to check up on everybody.”_ **

**_“We’re looking for a girl by the name of Ellen Andrews.”_ **

**“Yeah? Well, it’s too bad you aren’t looking for a _plumber’s_ daughter! QUIT BAWLING! QUIT BAWLING!”**

**_“I told you they were a perfectly nice married couple!”_ **

Dean was laughing his head off, beaming from ear-to-ear. In between laughs, he managed to say, “I can see why this is your favourite scene.”

Dean could feel a pair of eyes admiring him, the side of the owner’s head pressed against the couch and a smile starting to tire from his mouth stretching so much.

He distracted himself by leaning his body forward to get the last of the banana milkshake down his throat.

“Dean.”

“Hm?”

“I like it when you laugh.”

++

Within another hour the movie was finished, the same classical tune playing after the last scene. Dean had his head rested on Cas’ shoulder, not remembering how he got there, but figured it became natural for him to do so within some time.

“I liked it,” Dean admitted. He peered his eyes up at Cas, who had already been looking at him. Dean furrowed his brows and smirked.

“Jeez, you stare at my head throughout the whole movie or something?”

“Maybe,” Cas replied, lowering his lids. “This is the fifth time I’ve watched the movie anyway.”

“Hm. They don’t show a kiss, though.”

Cas sighed next to him. “Yeah. Doesn’t your neck hurt?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t moved.”

Dean lifted his head off of Cas’ shoulder and soon felt an ache running through the side of his neck.

He grunted, “Ugh, should’ve learned my lesson the last time.”

“Come here.”

Cas sat normally with his feet on the floor, eyeing him with a light of innocence mixed with a dash of pure _want_.

“I’m not a baby that needs a pillow every time,” Dean teased.

Cas smiled. “Dean.”

“Alright, fine.”

Dean shifted, placed both feet on the surface of arm of the couch after removing his shoes and let his head rest on Cas’ lap. He told Cas before of how cheesy it was, especially for two grown men like them to act, but Cas didn’t care, and a few seconds after giving in, Dean didn’t either.

“What if… we never met that day? At that bar, with the werewolves?” Cas suddenly asked, stroking the ends of Dean’s hair.

Dean shrugged with his eyes. “We’d probably meet anyway, with all the freakin’ demons chasing our tails all the time. Why?”

“No, but- what if there wasn’t anything in the way? What if we never had anything to do with Crowley or Alastair or any kind of supernatural beings? How do you think we’d meet?”

Dean smiled. _How do you think we’d meet?_ Yeah, of course they’d meet one way or another.

“Like if we were normal people in another universe?” he asked. “I don’t know, if we went to the same high school or college, maybe I could be some punk-ass dude and you’d be the nerd that somehow gets in my way every time.”

“Or the other way around.”

Dean smirked. “ _Or,_ we’d be working in the same boring department. You could be this, bossy CEO, that I’m the charming secretary to.”

“ _Or_ the other way around,” Cas affirmed, grinning widely. “Maybe we’d be at the same party. But we’d only meet _after_ that, and you’d take me out for a milkshake.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, milkshakes. Can’t argue with that.” He thought about another thing, but it felt silly to say out loud. Then he thought, screw it, if he was gonna get laid anytime soon, it was a good time then.

Dean raised his head from Cas’ lap and sat up, closing his face in next to his neck.

“Or maybe, I’d be a faithless man with no hope in the world, and you’d be the angel that I pray to and long for.”

Cas turned to look at him, left speechless at a single sentence as he let out a few breaths. Dean looked back at him expectantly, the corner of his lip curling at how candy achingly sweet that must’ve been for the both of them. All he could know what to do after that was blush.

Cas leaned in with a smooth kiss on the lips, not letting Dean respond as he pulled away after a second, keeping their lips brushing at the surface. He beamed and rested a hand on the back of Dean’s neck.

“You want to get laid so bad.”

Dean shook his head. “Don’t act so innocent. You’re the one who started it with the butt showing.”

“I won’t argue with that,” Cas whispered. He pushed Dean’s head forward to his, closing the gap between them again. Warm, soft but rough around the edges, Dean joined Cas’ lips with his easily. Cas hummed against him, hand travelling from the back of Dean’s neck up to the side of Dean’s head as he pulled on his hair gently.

Dean caressed a hand up Cas’ thigh, moving past his hip as both hands circled underneath his shirt. Cas pulled away for a second for air, panting his breath over Dean’s mouth, before gliding his own back over the top of Dean’s lips. Attempting to lean his back on the couch, Dean progressed his hands to press on Cas’ bare back, dragging him closer. Cas got the idea quick and moved towards him, lifting his feet off of the floor. Folding his legs onto the couch, he let them rest on each of Dean’s side, inviting himself to sit right in between Dean’s legs.

They pulled away, and the first thing Dean did was smile at the way Cas’ fingers combed their way through his hair.

“My hair’s a mess,” Dean said, glancing up at him under lashes.

“I’m not complaining.” Cas slid his hands from Dean’s hair down to his face, cupping both sides. He brushed a thumb lightly across his cheek to the edge of his cheekbone, studying its every move. Dean might have thought Cas was counting his freckles for the umpteenth time.

“I love you.”

Cas continued to brush the sides of his face as he whispered the words out. Dean leaned into every touch, every move, and hooked his pinkie fingers into Cas’ belt loops, letting his hands remain on Cas’ bare skin.

“How much?” Dean teased.

Cas grunted, “A lot.”

“How much is a lot?”

“I’ll show you,” Cas replied.

Dean didn’t have time to respond to that or much less think, as Cas pressed their bodies closer and swept in, embracing Dean’s lips. Cas had this talent for biting at the right spots when it came to them making out like idiots, and Dean wouldn’t complain. He’d _never_ complain, but…

“Mm, Cas—” He still kept his hands under Cas’ shirt as he pulled away, not letting any warmth escape them.

“Yes?”

“I uh- that part of my face is still a little- sore? From that week, so…” Dean trailed off awkwardly. How does one look someone straight in the eyes and tell them to tone down on biting?

“Oh- I’m so sorry. Did that hurt you? We can stop,” Cas murmured.

Both of Dean’s palms met underneath the back of Cas’ shirt, his arms circling around Cas’ waist entirely. “Does it look like I wanna stop? Just don’t make me bleed on you. Don’t want you turning into a vamp,” Dean teased.

Cas groaned, “I’d prefer you not bringing up the supernatural when we’re having a session.”

“A _session?_ ” Dean laughed, the vibrations from his chest emitting to Cas’ hands.

“You’re very unappealing right now.”

“Am I?”

Cas shook his head, softly smiling as he leaned in slowly. Dean carried his head forward expectantly, shutting his eyes as another pair of lips brushed gently on the corner of his mouth.

**Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.**

Dean sighed as his phone refused to quit ringing, reaching for it a few inches away from them on the couch. Cas was giving him a weird look as he still sat there, like he had just come up with a mastermind evil plan. Dean raised his eyebrows at him questioningly as he answered, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

_“Dean?”_

Of course it had to be Sam.

Dean looked back at Cas and mouthed, “Sam”. Cas nodded and started to shift away, heaving one leg first off of Dean. Dean frowned and quickly grabbed his thigh, signing him to stay right where he was. Cas rolled his eyes, but Dean didn’t miss the tiny smile that crept onto his face.

“Yeah, what’s up? Everything okay?”

And so Cas’ evil plan was revealed. Cas leaned forward, placing both hands on Dean’s shoulders. Before Dean could register, Cas nuzzled his head into Dean’s neck, placing warm lips on its side, sliding up and down and back and forth…

Dean _almost_ yelped on the phone with his brother. _Almost._

“Bastard,” Dean whispered.

_“What are you calling me a bastard for?”_

“Oh- not you. Him. Uh, what were you saying?”

_“I just said, that you said you were gonna let us know when you get there. You guys alright?”_

“Yeah, Sam- we’re fine. Just got a little distracted, sorry didn’t send a message,” Dean said into the phone. Cas huffed and pushed himself forward, pressing Dean back against the couch completely. Amused, Dean let out a chuckle and placed a hand on Cas’ lower back.

“I swear, you’re gonna break your own couch one day,” Dean growled.

“That would be your fault,” Cas uttered, passing his mouth over Dean’s jawline.

“Damn it, _Cas_ -” He might have gasped.

_“Oh, God, are you guys-? Oh God.”_

“Well, I don’t know, why don’t you ask this thirty year old man who might just straddle me to death- ow!”

“I’m _not_ thirty yet.”

_“Oh Go- okay, I’m hanging up now. You guys are gross, bye.”_

The line beeped to an end immediately. Dean threw his phone to the other side of the couch, smiling up as Cas looked down at him innocently.

“You… you are unbelievable.”

Cas beamed. “I’m not gonna straddle you to death, just so you know.” He closed in their faces inches away from each other, resting an arm on the cushion next to Dean’s head.

“I really missed you,” Cas said in a hushed tone.

Dean was silenced by the way Cas looked and sounded right then. He could’ve sworn they were joking around not even a minute ago. Suddenly the atmosphere around them seemed to tune out, and Dean could tell for the both of them, neither were going to let go _any_ time soon.

“Castiel.”

Cas quirked a smile at his full name. “Yes?”

“I need you.”

With three words, Cas wrapped an arm around Dean’s head and uplifted himself, securing his position _right_ in between Dean’s inner thighs. Dean breathed against the weight over him as Cas started to move. Dean pressed a soft kiss to a place in his neck, which turned into more, and earned a short gasp from Cas.

He smiled and sat up, putting his hands back to where they were before, under Cas’ shirt. Cas relaxed himself by prodding his head to Dean’s, the edge of his nose burying itself warmly against Dean’s temples. He placed a kiss there and relocated his hands from Dean’s head to his shoulders, down to his chest.

“On your back.”

Dean obeyed, shifting his position to lie on the couch, dragging Cas down with him by a pull to his waist. Cas fell on top of him lightly and unfolded his legs. Dean suppressed a laugh as their feet dangled together at the other end of the couch, the coldness of Cas’ toes tickling Dean’s.

“Your feet are cold, weirdo.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s alright.”

Another kiss, another laugh, another touch.

They reached their hands out at the same time to get a hold of each other’s shirts, Cas beating him to it.

“Okay, we haven’t mastered that yet,” Dean said. “Shirts off before going horizontal, take note.”

“Are you honestly teaching me how to have sex right now?”

“Nah, no point in teaching an expert, is there?” Dean teased, throwing a wink at him.

Cas laughed, vibrations in his chest passing to Dean beneath him. “You’re lame. Help me take your clothes off.”

“Sure thing.”

Dean was already on it, loosening the buttons of his Henley to pull the shirt right over his head. Cas sat up, grabbed it and threw it over the couch, the sound of it hitting the floor coming right after. He practically froze as he faced Dean, hands already pressed to his chest, eyes scanning the entire top area of Dean’s body.

“What?” Dean questioned. He looked down at his own body, suddenly feeling insecure.

Cas quirked a smile, shaking his head. “Nothing. I just haven’t seen you… like _this_ is a while. Bare and beautiful.”

“Are you-?” Dean chortled, wiping a hand over his face. “You’re throwing me off, man. C’mon.”

Cas shrugged. “I’m just saying,” he said, raising himself up to pull his own shirt over his head. “I think you’re beautiful.”

Dean blushed a hard pink, in which Cas laughed at, and slightly blushed himself. Dean laughed as well, pulling Cas down with a hand, feeling the contact of their bare skin against each other.

“Remember the times when we _didn’t_ talk during sex? Yeah, I miss that,” Dean said.

“First of all, it was one time. It was our first time. We were both very aroused and frustrated men. Second, it’s been more than five minutes since the start of our session. We’re achingly slow today.”

Dean’s hand swept back to his face, covering his face from laughing so hard at how Cas could say all of that with a straight look.

“Jesus Christ, Cas.”

“Stop laughing when I’m trying to- take your jeans off!” Cas exclaimed, failing to bite back a smile as he fumbled with Dean’s belt.

Dean smiled more. “You want to laugh too, admit it.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Cas grunted. He pressed their mouths together, silencing Dean at once with a hand stroking down his neck and then to his chest.

Dean cooperated gladly, raising his body to drag his jeans down to his knees. Cas glided his lips along Dean’s jawline, sucking on a sweet spot as he kicked Dean’s jeans off the couch. Soon his own slipped through his legs smoothly with Dean’s hands, Cas pulling back for a gasp as hands started to skim underneath his boxers.

“Not yet,” Cas whispered, placing a hand quickly on top of Dean’s.

Dean drew his hands away but still kept Cas’ in contact with his and looked at his eyes for answer.

“What?” he questioned.

Cas twisted their bare legs together, pressing their tummies closer as he smiled. He caught both pairs of their hands, made sure their fingers interlaced gently.

“I want to love you first.”

Dean swallowed, staring up at the man on top of him in awe. Cas looked amazing like that, all jokes aside. Blue eyes gazed at him like he was the world, previously chapped lips turned wet. He even breathed above Dean perfectly, small pants rhythmically ghosting over Dean’s skin.

“Um. Okay,” Dean replied, a genuine smile forming on his lips, which Cas returned.

Cas pushed his head forward and started with Dean’s forehead. He progressed his hands to both sides of the neck as he planted a sweet kiss on his forehead, following down to an eyelid, which made Dean’s smile quirk more at the tenderness. Cas went on, trailing his mouth to the top of Dean’s nose, then to his cheek, and of course, their lips met again at one point. They both smiled into it.

Cas actually paused to look at Dean after pulling away, eyes kept firmly in contact. He brushed small hairs away from Dean’s face, leaning in to press a kiss on his right temple. Dean chuckled as Cas’ mouth tickled his earlobe, feeling the way his mouth stretched into a smile.

Cas nibbled on the spot for a while, letting his hands travel down Dean’s torso. Dean exhaled a gasp with a shudder running through his body, swallowing his own voice.

“Cas- how long are you gonna do-?” Dean managed to get out. Cas grunted, probably annoyed at the fact that Dean was talking again. He moved to his shoulders, delicately kissing his way down to Dean’s chest. His hand crawled up, fingers wrapping around a nipple, mouth caressing the other.

“ _Fu-_ Cas,” Dean whispered, pleasure starting to stimulate with the soft touch of Cas’ mouth trailing down his upper body, passing through the bruises created from the fight.

Sometimes, being gentle was enough.

Dean moaned at the surprise touch over the cloth of his boxers, leaving his mouth agape. Cas stroked the area, reaching downwards to slide his hand in from the bottom. He kissed the top of Dean’s tummy, lovingly yet passionate and wanting; as goes with the other places. Dean sucked in a breath as Cas moved lower, feeling himself go hard.

Finally, Cas buried his face in the deep of Dean’s thighs, tugging the cloth away. He probably left hickeys at the rate he was going.

“Just take it off. Take it off, damn it,” Dean cursed. Cas laughed against his thighs, breath tickling and sending another shudder up Dean’s spine. Cas looked up through his lashes, looking beautiful as ever with a bit lip and rosy cheeks.

“Yours or mine?” Cas asked, eyebrows raised questioningly.

“Damn it- mine!” Dean exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “Or… yours, yours too. That’d be nice.”

Cas’ mouth quirked into a half smile. He shot up, pushing his chest flat on Dean’s, capturing their lips together, rough and hard. He bit the top of Dean’s mouth sensually, earning a trapped moan in the back of Dean’s throat.

“Sorry, I forgot- no biting,” Cas said after pulling away.

“Screw that,” Dean uttered. He grinned at the man above him, cupping a hand on the side of his face, brushing past his ear. “Love me,” he breathed out.

Cas beamed kindly, nodding, and dived in for another heated kiss. His free hands managed to get hold of Dean’s boxers, and Dean soon got hold of his. They struggled at first with tangled hands, cursing and laughing at how they’ve made this mistake every time. The second Dean’s was off, Cas kissed him again, circling his hand around Dean’s length.

Dean hummed back a moan as Cas started rubbing his shaft up and down against his tummy, raising his toes to the direction of the ceiling. Cas moved his mouth back to the nape of his neck, chests pressed and close enough, hips finding a rhythm to rock to. It was really fucking amazing, the position they were in, Dean thought, probably the best they’ve done so far.

Cas paused all his movements entirely. “Wait- condom. Still a few more in the drawer,” he said, proceeding to get up from the couch.

“No, don’t-!” Dean protested. “There’s one in my pocket. Back pocket,” he explained quickly.

Cas smirked. “Didn’t know you were so prepared,” he countered, stretching an arm out to the pair of jeans on the floor.

“Well, I wasn’t the one who put the lube under the couch. Saw that the minute I walked in.”

Cas flushed. “You win this one, Winchester.”

They didn’t take more than a minute to prepare. Cas sat himself in between Dean’s inner thighs as he applied the lube to Dean’s hole, and then let Dean apply some on his condom with a shit-eating smirk not leaving his face.

Cas leaned down, close enough for their faces to be just inches away from each other. He scooped Dean’s legs with his arms by the back of the knees, folding and aiming them to Dean’s chest.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

Dean nodded quickly, shutting his eyes. “Yeah. More than. Cas, just- fuck me, already, will you?”

He heard Cas exhale a laugh. Cas’ head tilted to Dean’s side as he felt his knees pull further inwards, and then a tender press of Cas’ lips to his temple.

Cas pushed himself in, slow and gentle. As expected, the initial slight discomfort was always a little weird. Then Cas adjusted, going in deeper, making Dean’s breath hitch at the sudden pleasure hitting him.

“Okay?” Cas asked. He always asked.

“Ye- yes, okay. Do it.”

Cas rocked his hips slowly against Dean’s, thrusting in his own cock, and at the same time pushing Dean’s knees further to the sides of his chest. Dean whimpered, breath escalating at each rock going faster, thrusts deepening and becoming harder.

“Fuck, _Cas_ -”

Dean dug a set of fingernails into the skin of Cas’ back, holding him down close as his other hand found itself groping the other man’s ass. Cas groaned his name, mouth barely brushed against Dean’s collarbone, heavily panting as the thrusts kept going.

“I love you. I love you,” Cas breathed out.

The second he raised his head to face Dean, Dean swept himself in with a kiss, removing the hand on his back and placing it in Cas’ hair. Fingertips reaching the roots of his hair, Dean pulled, earning a pleasurable wail from Cas. They pulled away and let their faces stay close, ignoring the sense of heavy breaths and nose-touching.

“I love you,” Dean murmured under his breath. He meant that.

Cas leered at him, eyes switching from lust to love, then to lust again. “I- I don’t think I can hold in much longer. Are you-?”

“Little more, I’ll signal you when.” They pressed a few more times against each other.

“Dean,” Cas called hopelessly.

“Shit, hold on. Almost.”

Cas rolled his eyes and looked down, smiling cheekily. Before Dean could ask, Cas bent his arm under Dean’s knee, managing to rub Dean’s shaft swiftly as he continued to thrust his hips.

“Fuck- _Cas,_ ” Dean moaned, the sense of pleasure gradually building and getting intense. He shook himself against Cas nearer, legs folding around his body, holding him down with his feet.

Cas smirked down at him, lip bit down. His breathing mounted as he thrust a few more times, burying his face into the crook of Dean’s neck.

He whined into his neck. “Fucking _hell_ , Dean, I can’t-”

Hearing Cas swear probably made things better.

“Okay, okay!” Dean yelped against his breath.

They gasped as they came at the same time, each giving out a cry. Dean’s back arched, toes uplifted to the air as the pleasure went through him slowly. Cas was speechless with his eyes shut, yet his mouth started to curl upward after a few seconds. Dean felt it up against his neck.

Cas still panted as he pulled out slowly. He lifted his head and smiled at Dean, who smiled right back at him. He dropped himself into the space next to Dean, back flat on the couch. From the side, he pressed a few kisses to Dean’s face.

“You’re okay?” Cas asked gently.

Dean nodded. “More than. You’re amazing, you know that?”

Cas beamed at him, brushing the ends of his hair. “Dean Winchester. My muse. My light. My saviour.”

Dean had never felt more loved.

++

They managed a remarkable second round in the shower after some time.

“Unbelievable. You said this was just to save water,” Cas muttered, wrapping a towel around his waist.

“Guess what? We didn’t talk in that one!” Dean cheered sarcastically.

“Well, I prefer not talking when it’s wet, everywhere.”

Dean just snickered cheekily in response.

Cas threw a towel at him playfully, turning red at how his sentence was constructed. Dean laughed, wrapping the towel around him himself.

“So, what do you want for dinner?” Cas asked.

Dean shot a look at him. “ _I’m_ making dinner.”

“No, I am.”

“ _No_ , I am,” Dean mocked him in the same tone. “It’s my turn.”

Cas opened his mouth to argue further, but closed it back. He frowned and finally said, “But- I bought new stuff and I know where they’re kept in the fridge.”

“So?”  Dean questioned.

Cas shrugged, giving up with an unsatisfied look on his face as he turned away. With one look at that, Dean sighed. He caught up to him and grabbed him by the wrist with a light roll of the eyes.

“Fine. You cook,” Dean stated quietly, tugging a corner of his mouth upwards. “Now wipe that frown off your face.”

Cas smiled, squeezing the palm in his. “I just learned how to make a casserole.”

“That’s great,” Dean said. Of course, learning how to make a casserole had to be a great deal for Cas. Wow, Dean thought, when did life suddenly become so easy?

He wondered the same thing during their quiet dinner. No sound was made other than the scraping of forks against plates, accompanied by Dean’s several compliments to the chef on the casserole. Cas bit back a smile every time Dean had something to say.

After cleaning up and finally settling down, Dean crawled into bed with Cas, one bedside lamp giving out a calm light.

“My mum would’ve loved you,” Dean suddenly said.

Cas nuzzled close to him, smiling to let him know he was listening.

“I mean, I know I was only six, but- I just know,” Dean added on. “She was that nice. I remember my sixth birthday party. She made me invite _every_ classmate, and actually took the time to make those little party bags for everyone, personalised with a name and stuff. And then Sam couldn’t stop crying because of the clown, so she took him to the kitchen and let him eat the leftover cake. She saved another piece for me and my Dad though.” Dean didn’t realize he was grinning until Cas squeezed his finger gently.

Cas smiled. “She sounds wonderful. I’d probably love her too. I only saw my mother once a week because of how busy she was, so I can’t tell if she’d be thrilled to meet you. Wait- that’s a horrible thing to say. Maybe she would,” he uttered, slightly shrugging. He stared into a certain space for a few moments, cracking a smile. “Balthazar, though. He’d probably act all hateful towards you, but deep, deep on the inside, there’d be a special spot saved for you.”

There was that name again. Dean remembered it. They were lying in bed, arms halfway tangled around each other in the mid-dark. So why not bring up the question?

“Hey uh- you and him. Were you two ever…?” Dean let the question finish itself.

Cas was silent for two seconds. He didn’t tense at the question, so he must’ve taken that time to register it.

“Oh. No, nothing like that. You don’t have to worry.”

“Sorry, I didn’t-”

“He was like a brother to me,” Cas said before Dean could finish. “We grew up together in Jefferson City, most of the time at least. Gabriel and him were close, but they argued a lot. Petty things, mostly. They sounded like a married couple most of the time, with extra sass.”

Dean sneaked a glance at him. Cas smiled nostalgically, his gaze set on his own fingers.

“He was my best friend for- _two_ decades,” Cas added softly.

Dean squeezed his arm, assuring him. “Can I ask you another question?”

“What?”

“Why the hell do you not look _or_ sound like you’re from Missouri?” Dean asked, lightening the mood. Cas grinned toothily. _There’s that smile._

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean,” Cas said with a laugh. He rolled to face Dean, fingers caressing the tiny pudge of Dean’s forearm. He suddenly laughed again, and blue eyes stared soulfully into Dean’s green ones.

“What? What are you thinking?” Dean asked, curling his mouth upwards as he turned on his side to face Cas.

Cas blushed. He beamed once more, before settling his mouth tight. Moving closer and snaking his arm around Dean’s waist, he whispered into Dean’s neck.

“Maybe if I were an angel and you were a faithless man… you’d be the one I rebel against heaven for.”

Yeah, Dean could definitely get used to this.


	10. All I Wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter before the epilogue!

_***_

_All I wanted was you._

_***_

As sunlight seeped through the edges of the window where the blinds didn’t cover up, Cas woke up with squinty eyes and a hand guiding itself up to his face. He was usually a grump in the morning, but seeing Dean in bed, _his_ bed, next to him for the first time in a long time, actually made him want to be awake. He got up from bed reluctantly and moved over to the blinds. He turned his head back to Dean, who still lay in bed in that same manner he always slept. After adjusting the blinds to avoid any disturbance of light hitting Dean in the face, he made his way out of the room, slowly turning the knob to not let Dean awake from his peace.

Cas thought about what to make for breakfast that day, and decided to go with the usual, with what he had left in the fridge anyway. He fried some sausages, along with a couple of omelettes, and proceeded to make their morning coffee. Dean didn’t usually sleep in much later anyway, so he didn’t worry about the coffee getting cold.

After several minutes of flipping through the daily paper, the fringe of the coffee mug slipping against his lips, Cas felt a gentle hand brush his shoulder. Dean placed a kiss on the top of his head just as he walked past Cas, and eased himself into a chair seated close enough.

“Mm. Coffee’s good,” Dean grumbled out, pressing his lips into a tight line as the coffee went down his throat.

Cas didn’t know what it was exactly that made a soft smile appear suddenly on his mouth- but the thought of him and Dean living a life together, with normal mornings just like this, actually kept him at ease.

“Wow. Seriously, Cas, you’re on fire with this breakfast,” Dean mumbled.

Cas would have responded if it wasn’t for the sudden reminder that Dean hadn’t exactly agreed on staying with him. They never discussed it, usually just went with a certain flow, or something would have come up before they could think about it.

But Alastair was gone; they didn’t have much of a primary mission anymore. Sure, they’d still hunt together, but how often would they see each other, when one of them already had a home in Sioux Falls, the other in Kirksville?

“You okay?” Dean asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Cas thought back and realized he was probably overthinking. Probably. Hopefully.

“Yes. More than,” Cas said back, offering him a tiny smile before scraping the last of his breakfast off his plate. He made his way to the kitchen sink with his plate, and Dean stayed silent behind him.

He could feel Dean’s eyes piercing through his shoulder blades as the water ran onto his dish. He bit his lip and let relief pour out of him when the sound of Dean’s fork filled the air between them again. Soaping his dish, he eventually gave out a sigh, turning around mid-way.

“Actually, I was wondering about…” Cas pressed his lips together again.

Dean looked up from his plate, eyes interested. “Yeah?”

“Us?” Cas managed to spill out. He didn’t even know how to construct his thoughts into a proper question.

Dean raised his eyebrows, opened his mouth to probably, no, _definitely_ , ask Cas to elaborate further, but the ringing of Cas’ doorbell interrupted them.

Both their heads turned to the door, and Cas went back to hurriedly washing his plate.

“I’ll get it,” Dean offered.

Cas watched him leave, and finished up the washing as he set the plate aside. Nobody really visited him, and the one of his neighbours who did, Mrs Monet, normally dropped by the doorstep to hand him a set of blueberry muffins or croissants newly baked. But to do it before noon was somewhat odd, even for peculiar little Mrs Monet.

“Uh, Cas?” Dean called.

“Who is it?” Cas said back, already pacing to the doorway.

He tilted his head as soon as he was close, getting an image of who it was. He froze in his steps the moment he saw Dean holding the door open for none other than-

“Gabriel," Cas uttered.

He looked normal, his injuries no longer obvious. He looked tired though, since it wasn't even noon. Cas hadn’t seen him since he was at the hospital, and with the way Gabriel always was, Cas never would have thought he’d see him again so soon.

“Heya, champ.”

Cas stepped closer. “How- what are you doing here?”

Gabriel smiled thinly at him with a shrug. “Do I really need to answer that?”

Cas huffed a smile. “I uh- come in. Um, Dean, my brother Gabriel. Gabriel, this is Dean.”

Dean and him shared a fair shake of the hands, with a small “hey” from Dean and a nod from Gabriel. Gabriel was clearly trying _not_ to make a fool out of himself for his brother’s sake. There they were, three men awkwardly standing by the doorway, with two out of the three still dressed in their pajamas.

“I’m uh, gonna go back to the kitchen and finish up my breakfast. You guys go ahead and- yeah, maybe I'll join you later,” Dean said with a clear of the throat. He escaped the situation by visibly taking quicker steps at a second, and Cas wondered how that man was able to sneak into houses without getting caught.

Gabriel smirked. “He’s better looking than what you’ve told me. Is Sam hot too?”.

“Don't even--” Cas halted. He sighed, waved a hand and got to the point with a genuine smile. “Gabriel. You’re here.”

“Cas. I am,” Gabriel said.

“Um, come sit,” Cas invited.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows in a manner of surprise. He walked, eyeing the kitchen where Dean's back faced the doorway. Arms out, he paused at the couch and turned to face Cas again.

"Not gonna nag at me?" He asked. "No 'you should have learned your lesson' or 'you're an idiot' this time?"

Cas sighed. "You _are_ an idiot _._ But I realized there's no point in nagging anymore. After everything, I'm just glad you're alive."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him and eventually shook his head with a smirk. "Who are you and what have you done to my brother Cas?"

"I'm still me," Cas replied, shrugging.

Gabriel took a while before he smiled back, clapping a hand on Cas' shoulder. "Great. Well then," he announced, making his way to the couch. He took a seat, making Cas nearly freeze on the spot.

"Um-"

"I should probably fill you in, huh?" Gabriel said, looking up at him hopefully.

Cas nodded awkwardly, staring down at him.

"What's wrong?" Gabriel asked.

Cas rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. "I- um... that couch was recently used. Last night," he finally announced.

Gabriel took a surprisingly long time to register before he stood up quickly.

" _Here_? I bought this couch for you." He looked back at it, cringing slightly. "Well, good thing I did, huh?" He said, winking at Cas like it was nothing.

Cas ducked his head in embarrassment, shaking it lightly. "You were getting to the part where you were gonna fill me in?"

Gabriel let out a small sigh and sat himself on another chair facing the coffee table. Cas followed his actions, awkwardly lowering himself to sit in the couch while he ignored the annoying smirk on Gabriel's face.

Soft familiar footsteps gathered toward them. Dean appeared between the two, occupying both his hands with mugs. He handed one to Gabriel with a saucer underneath, two packs of sugar and one creamer at its side.

"Sorry, don't know how you take it," Dean muttered.

Gabriel smirked as he accepted it. "Just like Cas, sweet and creamy. Thank you." He looked up at Dean with a wink and placed it on the table to start pouring all the contents given into his mug. Dean cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

Cas returned his brother's waggle of the eyebrows with a short glare across the table. The mug in front of his face distracted him though, making him look up to see newly re-filled coffee in it. He accepted the coffee Dean offered, thanking him quietly.

"Stay," Cas said to him the moment Dean started taking a turn of his heel.

Dean raised his eyebrows and looked between them. "Uh, you guys have stuff to talk about in private, I don't wanna--"

"Stay," Cas said again, using his free hand to gently tug Dean's arm. "Whatever Gabe has to tell me, I'd tell you anyway."

"Yeah. Cassie and I've already shed tears and confessed our brotherly love at the hospital, so don't worry about it!" Gabriel teased.

Cas gave him nothing but a roll of the eyes before turning his focus back to Dean. Dean looked between the two of them again and finally gave in with a shrug of the shoulders, sitting close to Cas.

"So... where've you been?" Cas asked.

Gabriel hesitated to answer. Cas guessed he probably remembered he needed to be honest. "I needed to leave. To look for someone."

Cas furrowed his brows and felt Dean doing the same next to him. "Who?"

Gabriel bit the inner of his cheek, hesitating again with a small sigh. "Kali."

Dean met Cas' eyes momentarily, questioning who Kali was. Cas was just as confused, having never heard his brother mention the name before.

"Kali?"

Gabriel nodded. "A witch. She's a witch I met on a hunt-"

"A _witch_?"

"Yeah, Cas. I met a witch and I uh, had a thing with her. So-"

"Wait, you had a thing with a _witch_?" Dean interrupted.

Gabriel gave an exasperated sigh this time. "If you guys could let me explain myself, maybe it'll finally make sense to you."

Cas kept his mouth shut then, glancing over at Dean to do the same.  

"She's not like the witches we hunt. She uses magic to help, heal, whatever she can do," Gabriel explained. "She's not evil. Non-evil witches _do_ exist you know."

Gabriel paused there to slightly chew on his upper lip, letting out a sigh. Cas knew a 'but' was coming along with that look.

"But?" Dean asked instead.

"She used to work for Alastair," Gabriel said.

Cas wasn't sure if he felt surprised, knowing most of the witches he encountered that year with Dean had been, in fact, working for Alastair. It might have been the fact that Gabriel gave in easily to the witch that shocked him. But Cas didn't know the full story yet.

"And you... how did you end up believing she was no longer faithful to him?" Cas asked carefully.

"Well- it's not like I trusted her at first. Took a while for her to almost convince me," Gabriel said. "People were getting killed on that hunt. I thought she was the one doing it, but it was another witch, one of her enemies. You could say they had a bit of a spat, ugly truths were spilled. Kali saved my life. Turns out the other witch was after me, under Alastair's orders, drove me to her case somehow. And Kali was out for her. You see, she's..." Gabriel trailed off, thinking for a moment of how to phrase his sentence.

"Good. She's good. But not the most forgiving," he explained. "Meaning, she'd have done anything to take Alastair down. And his followers. Bad, bad, history they have together. Alastair was one screwed up demon."

Dean huffed. "Yeah, no kidding."

Gabriel regarded him with a raise of the eyebrows. "Well, that was the thing that made him get worse over the years. His followers feared him, they were hardly loyal. White-eyed demon with a long experience with torture, I don't blame them."

"But why would they get tangled up with Alastair in the first place?" Cas asked.

"He _was_ a warlock as a human. Kali told me his way of getting demons or witches to stay by his side was by giving them something in return. Something they want," Gabriel said. "Do as he says, they get their prize. Apparently he has some djinn tied to him to make the prizes extra worthy, and a crossroads deal isn't needed."

Lots of things were still unclear to Cas, but his mind went back to the battle, where everything that went in their way seemed to be going for some 'prize'. Slowly, things started to make sense.

"So what happened to Kali?" Dean asked after a few moments.

Gabriel's face dropped with a soft sigh and took a long sip from his coffee mug. "She's not dead. But on the run. I went to look for her after seeing Anna, and she left a note at her old home."

"Alastair's followers are still out there?" Cas asked.

"Mostly the witches. And trust me, they're not after her because she was taking down Alastair. She's done wicked stuff to the _whole_ posse. The demons left behind aren't many, and even if there are, they're probably running their asses away from Crowley."

Cas had more questions, and he was sure Dean had them too, but Gabriel looked drained from probably sleeping in his car and like he needed more coffee. The separation from Kali seemed to upset him as well, considering the fact that Kali didn't want to be found at all.  

"When was the last time you saw Anna?" Cas asked.

Gabriel shrugged. "Back at the hospital with you. Is she out yet?"

Cas nodded with a soft smile. "Yes, she's staying one floor up."

"Wait- she's in this _building?_ "

"You didn't pick up the phone for me to tell you. But yes, she settled down a few days ago," Cas said.

Gabriel genuinely showed a grin. "How about a family reunion that doesn't involve any of us close to dying or running away?"

Cas rolled his eyes. "That's not funny at all, but I'd like that," he said before turning to Dean. "You’re coming with us."

Dean raised his eyebrows and half-smiled. "Cas, it's fine, it's your family thing-"

"Then I'm afraid you're family now," Cas muttered. Dean was _family,_ and it sounded pretty nice. He shot a quick smile at Dean as he got up from the couch and collected the empty coffee mugs. "And if I go over to Anna's without you, she might never let me in again."

Dean blushed for a moment. "Fine, okay."

"Okay!" Gabriel exclaimed with a clap. "What are we waiting for?"

"Wait, is she even awake? Or prepared to see people when it's barely ten?" Dean asked.

"She wakes up at seven and gets ready at nine, everyday. That definitely hasn't changed about her," Cas explained.

Gabriel shook his head. "And never went to bed later than eleven."

++

The moment Anna opened the door, she sighed right in Cas' face.

"It's very nice to see you too, Anna," Cas said.

"Cas, it hasn't even been forty-eight hours since I last saw you," Anna remarked with a small grin, crossing her arms.

Even though Cas knew she was teasing, he raised his hands slightly. "I come bearing gifts this time."

Anna looked at him in wonder for a second before Gabriel popped his head out from the side.

"Hey kiddo!"

"Gabe!"

Cas always found it odd how two polar opposites could get along that well. Anna and Gabriel were massively different, and they've had their arguments, yet they still managed to keep a close relationship. Cas watched them embrace tightly and let go, then Anna turned her head to the other figure that stood behind them.

"Hi, I'm Dean," Dean introduced himself and held out his hand with a genuine smile.

Anna broke out into a beam, took a glance at Cas then back at Dean. "Dean, yes. It's so good to finally meet you. I'm Anna."

++

Dean and Anna got along well enough. Anna was somewhat similar to Cas in her own way, but had her own uniqueness that Dean liked. She and Dean chatted for a while about how they were doing, told each other a bit about themselves, before Anna went back to Gabriel to catch up on the list of things she missed, again.

Dean looked around the apartment to see Cas standing by the kitchen sink, staring out the nearest window. He made his way over to the kitchen shortly with a soda in hand, since Anna wasn't much of a beer fan, and returned the soft smile Cas gave him the moment he walked in.

"You okay?" Dean asked, leaning next to him against the sink. He held the soda can in Cas' direction, in which Cas took it in his own hand casually.

"Yes. Just thinking about a few things," Cas said. He sipped on Dean's soda once and handed it back.

"Yeah, you said that earlier. About _us_?" Dean smirked. "Cas, what's there to think about?"

Cas let out a brief laugh and shook his head. "Never mind, it's nothing."

"C'mon," Dean uttered, crossing his arms. He turned to him this time and placed the half-drank soda can on the counter. "Talk to me."

Cas looked at him with a thin line formed on his mouth. "Well, I don't mean to sound strange when I say this but... how often are we going to see each other?"

"What?" Dean shrugged. "Very often. I mean, if that's what you're getting at. If that's what you- wait, you _do_ want me around more often than not, right?" He asked.

Cas shifted his eyes to the floor, only showing the smallest smile. Dean was pretty sure he was blushing, but hell, what was Cas trying to get at?

"Uh, _right_?" Dean asked again.

Cas glanced back up at Dean with a breath of laughter. "Dean Winchester, will you move in with me?"

Dean paused for a few moments, registering Cas' question. He kind of thought he already did before the whole battle thing, if staying at Cas' apartment for two weeks straight counted. But he still carried that duffel bag around and they've never talked about it, so technically, it wasn't official.

"Like, for real for real?" Dean asked.

"I know the floorboards may be squeaky and the water pressure isn't always great, but-"

"Cas," Dean stopped him. He beamed and took a step to stand in front of him. "If there's anyone I'd share squeaky floorboards and crappy water pressure with, it's you."

Cas released the bit lip he was holding to crack a smile and breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright, so-"

"And the uh, lumpy couch, the air-conditioner that needs maintenance, then there's that one colony of ants that don't seem to ever die," Dean continued, his mouth twisting into a teasing smirk.

Cas' face said nothing but pure adoration and fondness for the man in front of him, hands already shifting forward to tangle with the other pair. He tilted himself in and placed his lips on Dean's for not more than two seconds before pulling away.

"Shut up. That's our home you're talking about."

Dean dropped and shook his head with a light snicker. "I love you, you know that?"

They shared another kiss, a long one that led to a few more. Cas' hands were around Dean's waist already by the time Gabriel called out to them.

"Hey rabbit couple! We're gonna start a movie, care to join in?"

Dean turned to them. Anna was already sat by the couch comfortably, while Gabriel squatted by the television, shuffling through a handful of DVDs.  

"What movie?" Dean asked.

"Well, Anna kinda missed all the Marvel stuff that came out in the past two years, so I'm guessing we're watching _all_ the Marvel stuff that came out in the past two years," Gabriel replied with a slump of the shoulders and a heavy sigh.

"Please, I don't hate myself _that_ much," Anna responded.

Dean felt the hold of Cas' hand on his when Cas stepped forward.

"Actually, I think we're gonna head back soon," Cas said. Anna and Gabriel turned towards them, unsurprised by it. "We have certain things to um- _discuss._ "

"Sure you do, bro," Gabriel said back at him, waggling his eyebrows.

Cas sighed and nodded in their direction. "You guys enjoy your movie. Just don't kill each other," he remarked. Anna shook her head with a light chuckle. Dean felt Cas pull at his hand again and soon they were on their way out.

"Hey, it was great meeting you guys, really," Dean sputtered.

"You too, Dean!"

The door shut behind them moments later, and Dean let out a sigh of relief.

"Was it that bad?" Cas questioned, taking the first step away.

"What? No, Anna's great. Gabriel's... well, Gabriel. I just uh," Dean hedged, laughing nervously while he rubbed the back of his neck as they walked. "Is it stupid to say that I was holding my breath the whole time, meeting your family?"

Cas beamed. "I do recall you holding your breath the whole time when you first met _me_ , so I'm quite certain that you'll get used to them soon."

"Yeah, right. As if you were so smooth when I introduced you to Sam. And hell, we didn't even mush our faces together yet."

"Obviously. I liked you back then," Cas teased.

Dean smiled at that. _Back then_ had only been a few months ago, as weird as it sounded. Within only close to a year, Dean and Cas had in fact come so far. Dean hung his arm around Cas' shoulder as they took the last few steps down the stairs.

"Yeah well, now you love me."

++

"Wow. How many times is my heart gonna be broken by this movie?" Anna asked.

"You're not even at the Bucky parts yet," Gabriel reminded her, throwing a popcorn into his mouth . "So probably a few more."

Gabriel got up and came back with two warm mugs several minutes later. He handed the chai latte to Anna and kept the peppermint mocha for himself.

"Oh, thank you." Anna stared at the top of the mug in her hand, smiling and studying the pretty flower art done by Gabriel just for her. "You still remember the kind of flower I liked on this."

"Of course I do," Gabriel attested. He put his feet on the coffee table in front of them, and Anna didn't bother kicking them off this time.

Anna looked at the hot drink again. "Hey, Gabe?"

"Yeah?"

Anna tried wording the sentence she wanted to spit out in her head. "What are you gonna do after this?"

Gabriel turned his head to her, knowing what she meant by that. "As in, am I gonna keep fighting monsters?"

Anna nodded.

Gabriel sighed, letting his feet drop from the table as he sat up straight. "Honestly? I got no idea."

"I mean- Alastair's over with. Maybe you could go back, " Anna said.

Gabriel shook his head. "It's not that simple."

"I know. For most hunters it's probably not. But you- you might have a way out of this. Run your business again, I know you had something special going on there. It made you happy," Anna insisted.

"I don't know-"

"I'm not saying for sure, I'm saying _maybe_ you could," Anna tried again.

Gabriel didn't protest or reply. He looked down at the foam of his drink, smiled, and focused back on the movie. Anna took that as a sign of "this conversation is over, and no" and tried to concentrate on the television screen as well.

She found herself wrong when Gabriel placed his finished mug back on the coffee table and uttered the same word.

"Maybe."

++

It was barely noon and Dean was already grumbling to himself about the ache in his neck. He sat on the bed and rubbed the back of his neck, failing to make it feel any better.

"Hey, angel! Get in here," Dean called from the bedroom. Silence followed. He sighed and turned half of his body to the door again. "Please?" He asked with a smile.

Cas came in soon after, stopping at the doorstep. "You know, just because I was named after an angel, doesn't mean I actually _am_ one."

"What? Really? You had me fooled there," Dean teased.

Cas cracked a smile as he walked towards the bed. "What do you need?"

Dean shrugged. "You," he said.

"Is that your way of..."

"To use that magic you have on those hands and rub my neck. Please, it's been hurting all morning," Dean asserted.

"Oh."

Dean smirked. "What did you think I was suggesting?"

"Shut up." Cas rolled his eyes as he sat behind Dean crossed-legged on the bed and held both of Dean's shoulders gently. "Angels don't have magic. They have grace."

Dean leaned in to Cas' touch, letting his head fall back. "Yeah, whatever. Hey wait, you believe in all that angel stuff?"

Cas pushed Dean's head back to face forward. "Don't strain your neck more. And yes, I was raised to believe it. But I don't have a particular image for them. They could be warriors, saints... or dicks, for all I know."

Dean hummed. "I guess that could be true."

Cas continued rubbing the back of Dean's shoulders for a few minutes, hands travelling gently up to Dean's neck and then back down.

"We're really doing the whole moving in thing, huh?" Dean brought up.

"I suppose," Cas said back.

"Crap. I should probably tell Sam or Bobby about that."

Cas smiled. "I'm pretty sure they already know, given how much time you spend here."

Dean leaned back slightly again and Cas didn't stop him this time. He kissed his way down Dean's jaw, moving his hands to place themselves by Dean's arms.

"Do you feel better?" Cas asked.

"Well yeah, but you're good at that thing you're doing, so I'm not gonna stop you," Dean muttered. He turned his head and allowed himself to practically melt into Cas. Their lips moved together as Dean's weight slowly pinned Cas down.  

Cas' hands proceeded to Dean's hair with a soft tug and a light moan escaped from Dean's closed mouth just as the most annoying sound filled the room. The most annoying sound at the moment, at least.

The vibrating beep went on and on from the other side of the bed. Dean grunted and pulled away from Cas.

"Let it ring, it's probably nothing," Cas claimed, pulling Dean's head back towards him.  

They went back to kissing, and not a few seconds later the phone went silent. With a relief, Dean placed a hand underneath Cas' shirt, followed by another. Cas' hands were about to do the same when--

**Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.**

"You're fucking kidding me," Dean cursed. "I swear to God, if that's Sam..."

Cas sighed underneath him as Dean rolled off quickly to get to his phone. Dean reached out for it, laying next to Cas with his elbow propped into the mattress.

"Unknown number," Dean uttered grumpily before accepting the call. "Hello, what do you want?"

_"Dean? It's Garth. I'm sorry, but I need a butt load of help here, if you don't mind."_

Dean huffed. "Well, I _do_ mind, Garth. Cas and I are busy, and we're on break. Could you get someone else to help you?"

_"Listen, I- I don't have much time to explain, but I'm caught in a serious situation. Everyone else is on the other side of the country, and I need to get help quick. Please, Dean."_

Cas was looking at Dean with questions ready to be asked. Dean listened to the exasperation in Garth's voice and felt it would be too much of a dick move to let him down. He _did_ owe Garth a favour after all.  

He sighed. "Alright, where are you and what do you need?"

_"Uh, Chicago? I've got everything we need. Well, almost."_

"Damn it, Garth, this better be important," Dean said. "Okay, text me the rest of the details, we'll be there."

Dean hung up the phone and sighed, guiltily facing Cas. "Hunting, man."

"Did he say what it was for?" Cas asked.

Dean shook his head. "Nope, but he sounded pretty damn desperate. So uh, rain check?"

Cas nodded with a sigh. "He _did_ save our lives that one time."

"Yeah. Okay, we'll have a quick lunch here and then start packing," Dean said. He paused, smirked, and looked at his watch. "Well, it's a little early for lunch..."

"Sex wouldn't feel right when our friend is possibly in danger," Cas grumbled, sitting up. "Brunch. Mac 'n Cheese is all I have left."

"Sounds good. Even though we already had breakfast," Dean mumbled. He got up and placed another kiss on Cas' lips. "Hey. In the car, on the way back."

"What?" Cas questioned.

Dean raised his eyebrows and showed another playful smirk.

"Oh," Cas realized. " _Oh_. Of course."

Dean grinned at him. "C'mon, we gotta go make some brunch and save Garth's ass."

They hit the road not long after Mac 'n Cheese was served.  

That's who they were, and probably who they will be for as long as they could remember. It wasn't anything new to Cas, even though Dean's been through it a lot longer than he has. Cas was okay with hunting. Dean extremely hoped he was.

Dean momentarily turned his head to Cas next to him riding shotgun. Cas had his nose in another book, something Dean wasn't familiar with.

"Hey, you're okay, right?" Dean asked. "With all this."

Cas looked up from the book and furrowed his eyebrows at Dean. "Yes, of course. Why, are you not okay?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine. Just wanna make sure that you're feeling okay after- Alastair and other annoying demons."

"Dean." Cas put the book aside and showed a genuine smile. "I'm alright, really," he reassured, reaching out a hand to gently place itself on Dean's lap.

Dean accepted it and smiled to himself. "Good. That's good."

"We've been on a long break, anyway. It's about time I felt useful."

"C'mon, you're always useful," Dean muttered.

Cas huffed. "That's nice to hear, I love you too."

Dean didn't have to tell him he didn't mean it that way, of course. He slid his hand underneath the one already on his lap and brought the back of Cas' hand to his lips. Cas tried not to smile at that.

"Look at you, all _blushy_."

"Eyes on the road Dean, not me," Cas reminded.

"Hey, remember that time we pretended to be a couple for that weird hunt with the fine dining haunting?" Dean asked of the blue.

Cas groaned, "Why are you bringing that up?"

Dean chuckled, clapping the steering wheel. "I don't know, I just remembered. That was a fun hunt."

"You're saying it was fun calling me _'sugarplum'_ all the time?"

" _Sweetplum._ I called you sweetplum. It wasn't that bad, I got to hold your hand and stuff. Did you have a crush on me already back then?" Dean asked. He already knew the answer.

Cas rolled his eyes and slumped against his seat. "Of course I did."

"Hm. Did you wanna kiss me?" Dean teased.

Cas shrugged and lifted his hand off of Dean's, keeping it to himself under his other arm. "I'm gonna say no. It was just a tiny, small, miniscule crush."

"Aaand, this is the part where I call _bull_ ," Dean jested. "That crush definitely expanded after."

Cas fell silent and beamed at him. "You're right," he softly said. Cas moved closer and kissed Dean tenderly on the cheek, making Dean slightly turn his head to kiss him back.

Dean only had his cheek pushed to face forward again.  

"Hey!"

"I care about our safety more than another kiss," Cas made known. " _Road._ "

Dean chuckled. "Alright, fine."

He waited for Cas to turn his head to the window to quickly peck him on the cheek, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Ha!"

Cas sighed. "Yes, you've proved that you're an amazing driver. Please don't get us killed."

"Whatever you say, sweetplum."

Cas tolerated the pet calling and got back to his book while Dean hummed softly to the music from one of Cas' CDs. Cas thought it was about time Dean listened to other songs, and Dean was learning to get used to it after protesting a couple of times.

"See Dean, songs that aren't on your cassette tapes aren't that bad," Cas remarked.

"Hey, I'm doing this for you. _Only_ you. Don't tell Sam I'm listening to some indie- what's the name of this band again?"

Cas shrugged. "I don't know, all of these belonged to Anna."

A few conversations between them followed after that, and it eventually lead to the regular teasing and flirting and Cas telling Dean to focus on the road again. Dean did focus on driving, because he had to, but there was no way of stopping him from looking at Cas beside him from time to time, just to see if he was really there.

Cas was nice to look at, after all.

"And you say _I'm_ the one with the teenage crush," Cas teased.

Ah, of course he noticed.

"I like looking at you, is that a problem?" Dean asked. "And hey, you're the one who started the whole staring thing. Don't get me started on that."

There was a short pause and Dean almost looked away from the road again.

"I'm glad I did, then," Cas murmured. Dean turned his head this time, and Cas was smiling at him adoringly, part of his lip being slightly bit back.

"Cas, you keep telling me to look at the road but you're being all- _that_. What am I supposed to do?"

"Drive, Dean."

And so he drove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs used for chapter titles:
> 
> High Hopes - Kodaline  
> Firefly - Ed Sheeran  
> A Daydream Away - All Time Low  
> The Scientist - Coldplay  
> Bad Blood - Bastille  
> Marching Band - Joe Brooks  
> Thank You - Led Zeppelin  
> All I Wanted - Paramore


	11. Epilogue

  **(JULY, 2015 - ONE AND A HALF YEARS LATER) **

 

 

If anyone told Dean he'd have the chance to roam the streets of Manhattan with the love of his life two years ago, he'd have called them crazy. He'd tell them, there was no "love of his life", and the actual city of New York City was just a virtual image to his eyes for hunter like him to even think about for more than necessary. Yet there he was in a hotel room, repeat, a _hotel_ , with the letter _'h_ ', not ' _m_ ', with none other than Castiel James Novak, in New York City.

Cas and him had explored Manhattan like complete foreigners entering America for the first time the day before. They visited every landmark possible, shopped for the most ridiculous things for home, and hell, they even took a bunch of pictures of themselves in Central Park.

Dean knew the both of them wouldn't be lying if they said they never expected any of this to happen to them. But it did.

Cas was in the shower, taking his sweet time with the hot water probably, while Dean stayed in the softness of the bedsheets they were gifted with. He wondered how Cas was even able to get out of bed that morning. Dean shifted slightly, and with a smirk played on his lips, he remembered.

_ Right. He's not the one with the sore ass. _

Basically, Dean remembered from the past two years; they went from coincidentally meeting, to slowly falling in love, to defeating demons, then everything after was a pile of- everything else, really. 

They've shared the greatest and happiest moments together the past entire year. Dean remembered well of them.

There was a time when him and Cas had gone through a case that was so tough to figure out, one that messed with their heads for three days. After solving it (and cleaning all the goo off the Impala), they went home and lied on the couch together for the rest of the day. Dean remembered a couple of lazy kisses and hand jobs involved.

The night before Cas' birthday, they were on the road from a hunt in Bloomington, Indiana and on the way home. Neither of them could stand being in the car for more than another six hours through the night, so they booked a motel.

A motel which had no rooms with a double bed that weren't reserved or taken already.

++

"No room at all?" Dean asked the lady at the counter. Tan skin, dark hair and brown eyes, dressed like a citizen of PleasantVille, but Dean didn't mind. 'Gilda', her tag said.

Gilda shook her head with an apologetic smile.

Dean turned his head around where Cas waited outside, admiring the view.

He let out a nervous laugh and turned back. "Uh, you see- it's his birthday tomorrow. Is there really, really nothing you can do?"

"I'm afraid not. Checked three times," Gilda said with a sigh.

"That's- just great," Dean mumbled. Cas' birthday had only been mentioned between them once some time before, when Dean realized he never knew when it was.

"But, you know- if you're looking for last minute presents, there's a gift shop right down the street that's open till midnight. I mean, some things are a little pricey, but it's all quality and thoughtful enough," Gilda suggested, reading a part of his mind.

Dean lifted his eyebrows. "Really?"

Gilda gave a nod. "Really. Plus, twin beds aren't that bad. You could maybe- share one for extra cuddling," she said, shrugging.

Dean's heart felt light at the cute vibe she created, yet his face flushed red in embarrassment. "Hah, right.  Thank you, I guess."

Gilda beamed. "Not a problem, sir. So, twin beds it is?"

Cas and him got to their room eventually after Gilda handed over their key and wished them a nice stay. Dean mouthed a last thanks to her before going off.

"Are you... angry with me?" Cas asked, narrowing his eyes towards the separated beds.

"What? Oh- no, no. They had no more rooms with a double, that's all," Dean said to him casually as he shrugged off his coat. 

"Oh. Alright." Cas looked far too eager to go to bed alone.

Dean smirked. "Someone looks excited to finally get some space."

Cas kicked off his shoes and laid himself on one of the beds. "Not like you can blame me," he said, sighing into the single mattress.

"Hey! I'm not that bad of a bed mate. You're just a dick," Dean joked, and smiled at the soft chuckle that came in reply.

"I love you too."

Dean made sure Cas was too comfortable in bed to get up before he said he was going out to get "refreshments". He asked Gilda for the exact directions since he had no time to waste. During his walk he realized how shitty it was for him to get his present from a _gift shop_ , of all places, when Cas got him a vintage Led Zeppelin record and a homemade bacon cheeseburger for his birthday. And well, great sex.

Entering the cosy store, Dean's eyes wandered from the flowers to the gift cards to the freakin'- decorative plates in the room. Had he even been to an actual gift shop before?

"Crap."

"Can I help you?"

Dean swiveled around at the cheerful voice behind him. There stood a lady not much younger than him with a bright smile and fiery hair. Dean figured her hair represented her attitude as well, in a good way.

"Uh, no. Maybe. I mean, I don't know. Probably," Dean stammered.

The redhead raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm assuming you _do_ need help."

"Yeah. I do, actually," Dean said. He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I uh, need help in getting a really last minute birthday present. And by really last minute, I mean tomorrow."

"Oh, okay. Who's it for?" She asked.

Dean let his eyes travel elsewhere. "Oh. Just- just a friend." 

"Just a friend?"

"Okay, more than a friend. Partner. Let's call him my partner," Dean decided. "I mean- you get what I mean, right?"

The lady raised her hands. "Hey, nothing to be afraid of. Everyone's welcome here. What's this person of yours like?"

Dean smiled. "He's a good person, in general. Always trying to help people. Likes books, old movies, animals. Organized, at least tries to be. I'm guessing he likes thoughtful gifts. But- I don't want to get anything too sappy, you know. I'll never hear the end of it."

The redhead squinted at him. "Hm. So you calling my store a place for saps?"

"Oh hey no, I didn't mean it like-"

The girl chuckled, waving a hand quickly. "Relax, I'm just messing with ya. C'mon, I'll show you a few things he might like."

Dean learned her name was Charlie, and that Gilda was her best friend. Telling by the way her cheeks went pink at the mention of her, Gilda was probably her long-time crush too.

After a run through the selections of Cas' present, Dean decided on one that he could work with. The choice was pretty great, and he couldn't wait to see the smile on Cas' face when he saw it.

He thanked Charlie for the tenth time that night for staying in a few more minutes later for him to wrap the gift nicely before he left. Carrying the wrapped present in his hands, he stopped by the nearest convenient store to actually get the refreshments they needed for the road. Cas was asleep by the time he got back, which Dean was thankful for. Dean made a mental note to himself to wake up earlier than Cas the next morning.

So he did. Dean smiled at how far too comfortable Cas looked in a single bed. Cas would be up in a few minutes without a doubt, judging by the amount of sleep he got.

"Cas?" Dean called out softly, tiptoe-ing towards the edge of his bed.

Cas' sleeping face went from pissy to pissier. He groaned, keeping his eyes closed as he laid flat on his back.

Dean chuckled quietly at him before slipping himself under the blanket. 

"Morning, sunshine," Dean greeted, circling an arm around Cas' waist. 

Cas grunted. "Dean. My bed."

"Someone's grumpy about turning thirty," Dean teased, scooting closer. "Happy birthday, Cas."

Dean didn't miss the tiny smile that appeared. "You remembered," Cas uttered. Finally, those blue eyes fluttered open.

"Of course I did," Dean mumbled into his shoulder. Of course he did. Cas scooted over to give them both some space to breathe, not letting Dean's hold on him any looser at the same time.

"I'm extremely old," Cas said. 

Dean smiled. "You're thirty. That's- well yeah, that's pretty old."

"That doesn't help," Cas said as he cupped a palm over Dean's. 

Dean leaned over to kiss the cloth covering Cas' shoulder. "It's okay. In a couple of years I'll be thirty, and we'll both be old."

Cas hummed contently in return as Dean trailed his kisses up to the nape of his neck.

"So what do you want to do, sleep or start your special day from here?" Dean asked him.

Cas thought for a while before turning to face Dean. The smirk he wore spoke mischief. 

"I want to lie here with you, awake. Until an appropriate time for breakfast at the closest diner," he said.

Dean narrowed his eyes at him. "You want me to stay here? What happened to wanting your little space?"

"I've had enough space," Cas mumbled before sinking his head into the nook of Dean's neck.

Dean smiled down at him. "Yeah?"

"Yes. Also, a handjob would be nice."

Dean snorted. "Wow. Way to be indirect, Cas."

They had breakfast at 9 and Dean secretly brought along the present he bought to the diner. As Cas was happily enjoying the last few bites of his pancake, Dean cautiously slipped out the present from under his jacket. Cas sipped on his coffee, eyes boring at the rim, while Dean contemplated on going through with this at all.

Slowly taking a breath, Dean placed it on the table. Cas paused as soon as he saw it, eyes knitting with confusion.

Dean looked away while he pushed the present towards him. "Here." Even though he was looking away, he could still feel Cas' eyes on him.

"You got me something?" Cas asked. Dean sneaked a glance at him to see the cutest smile across his lips as he placed his fingers on the present.

"Yeah, I thought I should. I mean, you don't have to open it now-"

"I'm opening it now," Cas said, already fumbling with the tape.

"I- okay, you do that."

Cas gently opened it, making sure the wrapping paper never tore - though Dean opened it a few times that night to add some stuff in, ruining Charlie's perfect wrap - and held the item gently in his hands.

"Dean?"

Dean huffed. "Stupid idea, right? You don't have to-"

"No. Explain it to me," Cas demanded, happiness still present in his expression. 

Dean studied him for a while, slightly hesitating. He sighed. "Alright. I remembered somewhere around two weeks ago, that you were a little pissy because you misplaced all your casserole recipes. And your poems, and your sketches, and ideas that you jotted down. And when I told you to go get a folder, you kept forgetting."

Cas tilted his head at that. "But this isn't a folder."

"No, it's not," Dean added. "Here, let me show you."

Cas handed over the notebook, ocean blue and leathery on it's cover that was clipped from the back. His eyes showed interest, leaning in.

Dean popped the clip open and demonstrated everything about the notebook. He showed Cas the different kinds of paper in it with different purposes and sizes, the envelopes between the compartments, the pages in every compartment that was specialized for keeping photos. Then he turned to the front page and showed him the stencil writing he did of 'PROPERTY OF CASTIEL NOVAK'. Dean had other surprises written in there as well, but that was for Cas to find.

"And look, you don't even have to bring a pen with you all the time. There's _pockets_ ," Dean finished with, and only realized Cas stayed silent throughout his rambling. That was pretty worrying, because what if Cas was so shocked at how lame Dean was being that he didn't know how to say anything nicely?

Dean finally looked at him to find him with the same shy smile, staring at the notebook fondly.

"It is _ridiculous_ ," Cas said, shaking his head. Dean froze. "How I get to spend my time with a person as amazing as you are." _Oh._

Dean beamed. "So you actually like this thing?"

"I do. You know how I love convenience," Cas stated. "Thank you, Dean."

"You're welcome."

After breakfast and checking out, Dean made sure to stop by Charlie's again while Cas waited in the car.

"Sunflowers? I thought you said you weren't a sap," Charlie teased. 

Dean blushed. "Hah. Well, I can be sometimes. And by the way, Gilda says she wants to have lunch with you soon, and that you should call her. Good luck, kid. And thanks."

Dean didn't miss the utter shock and redness on her face before he left.

Dean hid the flowers behind his back until he made it to the front seat of the car, where Cas was scanning the notebook with awe next to him.

"Happy birthday," Dean wished him again, reluctantly handing them to him. "Just a notebook as a present? No way I'm living with that."

Cas looked up and immediately grinned at the bouquet. "You- wow. Thank you, Dean."

"Just take it already?" Dean said, turning his head away.

Cas took it willingly. What Dean didn't expect was an instant grab of his collar with the make-out session that followed.

"Would it- be unsanitary and rude if we had sex right now?" Cas asked.

Dean laughed, shoving him away gently. "Extremely unsanitary and rude, Cas. Wait till we get home."

++

Dean could still see the notebook from where he was, peeping out of Cas' duffel.

Then there were the holiday celebrations; Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's.

They spent most of these at Bobby's, with Sam and Ellen and Jo and Ash, even. Halloween wasn't exactly celebrated in the way most people do it, but they survived, which was great. Thanksgiving was romantic. Christmas was actually fun, with cheap gifts passing around and laughter erupting the room.

New Year's Eve was spent at their apartment, and Cas fell asleep before the clock struck twelve. The closest Dean got to a New Year's kiss was a peck on the cheek as he moved a half-asleep Cas to the bedroom somewhere around eleven. Poor guy pulled an all-nighter the day before to catch up on TV shows he missed for a month. 

Cas woke up the next morning before Dean and made him an excellent breakfast to make up for it.

They had a simple routine they followed as well. Get up, take turns making breakfast each day, run through the papers to find a case. When they weren't hunting, Cas would read, and read, and read. What he read varied from ancient mythology, Stephen King, to other fictional reads, and Dean swore he caught a glimpse of him looking back at some of his Astronomy books. Most of the time Cas would be in his company when reading, anyway.

When it came to Stephen King, they'd discuss his works after Cas was done reading one. His favourites were similar to Dean's favourites, and at first, Dean felt slightly queasy about it, but then it just bloomed into greater affection felt towards him.

They watched TV a lot, and most of the time, one of them would be half-asleep on the other's lap or shoulder.

Dean appreciated those tiny moments of their routine, because he knew, that without them it wouldn't feel the same.

But things between them hadn't been a smooth ride the whole journey.

They've had fights. Most of them were just petty arguments, small and harmless and forgotten about by the next hour.

But there was one where Dean messed up one day. 

++

"Dean."

Dean tilted his head up from the bottle at his lips to meet Cas' gaze.

"Yeah?"

Cas pressed his mouth into a thin line. "How many of those have you had today?"

Dean stitched his eyebrows together. "What, this?" He questioned, holding his bottle higher. "I don't know, didn't count. It's just beer, Cas."

"Dean," Cas called again.

"What?" Dean snapped lightly. 

Cas narrowed his eyes at him as he leaned against the kitchen doorframe silently. 

"What?" Dean snapped again.

Cas shrugged. "I'm just- worried. Your drinking this week has been more than usual. A lot more. I don't want things to-"

"What, get bad? You think I'll crack that easy?" Dean cut him off, and woah, he didn't know where he was going with this. He just spoke. 

Cas sighed. "No, I wasn't suggesting that. I'm just letting you know that you're drinking more. And it worries me. There are three bottles of alcohol on your bedside table, and they're all different kinds. Isn't- isn't that-"

"Mind your own business, Cas. I'm fine," Dean said.

"Like I said, I just worry-"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Like I said, mind your own business, Cas! Jeez, go cool off and smoke a blunt or something."

Dean hadn't realized the impact of his words until the silence went on for longer than he thought it would.

Cas stood there with a disbelieved expression, as if he was begging himself not to think that was what Dean said. He turned his head away and let out a pained huff.

"Shit. Cas, I didn't mean that," Dean had barely started his apology before Cas stormed off to the direction of their room. "Cas!" Dean called, following behind him.

"Cas, I'm sorry, I didn't- I'll stop, okay? I'm a dick for-"

Dean had to catch his breath as Cas turned around quickly, making Dean pause in his steps too soon.

"Fuck you," Cas growled at him. He turned back to the door immediately.

Dean took a step forward. "C'mon, babe, please hear me out-"

"Don't follow me!"

With that and a hammering slam of the door, Dean heaved a sigh and rubbed a palm across his face.

Cas was just trying to help, because yeah, Dean might have given in to more alcohol than he should have without realizing. And he was a complete ass about it.

He did feel drunk, but he wasn't drunk enough to not feel anything else. He felt like utter shit and he probably deserved it.

Just as he made his way over to the couch, since he guessed that's where he was crashing that night, the door swung open with a creak.

Cas walked out of the bedroom, ignoring his presence entirely. He paced quickly to the entrance and shuffled through the coats at the coat hanger.

Dean could tell he misplaced his trenchcoat again, as he normally did. Usually Dean would tell him where it was to save him the trouble, but he was afraid to get snapped at again just from talking. Cas seemed to realize it too, pausing in his search. Dean figured he probably contemplated on asking.

With an ounce of bravery, Dean cleared his throat.

"It's um- on the counter. In the kitchen," Dean murmured.

Cas turned expectantly with the slightest nod, went to grab his coat and made his leave.

Dean used the time he was gone to collect some stuff to sleep with that night. He brushed his teeth quickly and managed to find a proper pillow and his own pajamas, but he figured it was too much of an effort to grab a blanket from the pile that sat at the highest shelf.

He tried falling asleep in all ways possible. He counted sheep, stayed still for a full fifteen minutes, but his mind constantly wandered back to how stupid he'd been.

About half an hour later of rolling on the couch to get comfortable, the door opened with a slight creak and jingling keys were placed on a table.

Dean shut his eyes, pretending to be asleep as he heard Cas' familiar movements. He actually bothered to hang his coat that time. Cas walked and walked with the sound of his shoes tapping against the wooden floor.

Then he stopped abruptly as he got close to Dean. Fuck, Dean thought, he was looking right at him for more than just a few seconds, staying in his spot.

Dean shifted his position, clinging onto the pillow tighter with an expression that probably made him look too well asleep. He heard Cas let out a sigh and then toe his shoes off. His footsteps still sounded in the room as he walked to the bedroom. Dean waited for the bedroom door to shut with the whining it always made. Instead, he heard a few cabinets open, and the next thing he knew, Cas was in the living room again, coming towards him.

Dean heard the flap of a blanket before it was placed gently over his body. He hardly realized how cold he was before this. He shivered without planning to, and before he could slightly panic over it, Cas laid a hand in his hair. 

"Sshh," Cas hushed him and adjusted the blanket properly so it covered his body.

Dean wanted to scream. He wanted to yell at Cas for caring about even the simplest things, or caring for him, even when he was mad.

Not later Cas flickered off the lights and left to the bedroom with the door shut.

Dean fell into unconsciousness sooner or later, but it wasn't much of the sleep he wanted. After a certain amount of time he found himself awake again with a dry throat. He grunted at the pain in his head and got up from the couch, eyes barely open, though he could see that it was still dark as hell outside. He propped over to the kitchen, rubbing his forearm over his eyes.

What he didn't expect to see after that was Cas leaning against the counter, sipping on what looked like orange juice as he stared at the blinds.

"Oh. Hey," Dean stammered out. 

Cas turned his head to him. His eyes looked incredibly tired and just, done. It even scared Dean a little.

"Hello, Dean."

_Oh, wow, there's a new level of acknowledgement_. Dean squinted at the digital clock placed on the cabinet. _4:21._ __

"Uh, what are you doing up here?" Dean asked. He probably should have stopped talking since Cas was always a grump in the morning.

Cas sighed and turned away to the sink to wash up his glass. "Same reason you're here. Not the best sleep. Felt a little thirsty."

"Right. Yeah um, thanks for the blanket," Dean tried with a simple shrug.

Cas put away his glass and didn't bother saying anything else.

As soon as he stepped past him, Dean spoke out. "Cas, wait."

Cas paused, turned back to Dean with a roll of the eyes.

"Dean, it's too early to talk about this-"

"I know," Dean said. "I know. So could we please talk this out later today? I'm not gonna defend myself, but if you don't like what you hear, you can punch me in the face."

Cas crossed his arms. "I'm not gonna punch you in the face."

"Well, I deserve it," Dean replied.

Cas sighed in response and left Dean alone in the kitchen.

"Good talk," Dean uttered to himself. He grabbed himself a glass of water, and there was that same headache he felt the whole week. Damn, Cas was right.

Dean got another few hours of sleep on the couch. The first thing he thought about was making breakfast, even when it was Cas' turn that morning.

He checked the bedroom door to see if Cas was still asleep. Positive.

Dean made Cas' favourite, blueberry waffles with cream on top. Then he made coffee just the way Cas liked it.

Cas stumbled out of the bedroom, hair disheveled as ever. His expression told Dean how much he hated having to get up to make breakfast that morning.

"Morning," Dean greeted with a hopeful smile as he appeared at the kitchen door frame.

Cas startled and popped his eyes open in surprise at the food on the table.

"That's- for you," Dean said, pushing a plate to his direction. "That too." Then with the coffee.

Cas eyed him suspiciously as he walked over and wrapped his fingers around the coffee mug. He took a sip and he oh so visibly fought back a smile. He sat, pulled the plate of waffles towards him and looked up at Dean, who was still sat opposite him.

Dean raised his hands in surrender. "Okay. I'll go," he said. He stood up from the table with his own coffee mug in hand and paced out.

"Thank you," Cas murmured softly.

Dean looked back and offered a gentle smile. "No problem."

Cas spent the rest of the morning with his nose buried in a book about psychology, while Dean watched old cartoons on TV. They weren't exactly in the same space, but it was better than Cas not bothering to be around him at all.

Lunch was settled later with a pizza, since Dean remembered Cas saying he craved it the other day.

"Extra pineapple. Oh and, no anchovies," Dean said into the phone. He could feel Cas' stare burning into him from a distance.

As soon as he hung up and finished the order, he instinctively glanced at Cas, who never bothered looking away.

"You hate pineapple," Cas stated.

"I can pluck them off, give 'em to you. You love 'em."

"But I do the same thing with the anchovies for you," Cas pointed out.

Dean shrugged. "I don't need anchovies all the time."

Cas suppressed a smile and continued reading.

As Cas finished his last bite of pizza, he grabbed another book and his laptop and hid himself in his room.

Okay, so they weren't gonna talk so soon, Dean guessed.

Not half an hour later, Dean heard the Game of Thrones opening playing from their bedroom.

"Starting a series without me. Not cool," Dean whispered to himself. Whatever, he deserved that. And it was probably Cas' way of telling him that he was gonna be in there for a while.

Dean killed time from lunch to dinner by heading to the nearest convenient store buying necessities, and picked out things that Cas liked. 

Almond ice cream. Check.

Orange juice. Grape juice. Check.

Car air freshener. Check.

Dean headed back, and Cas was still in the bedroom. From what he knew from Sam's watching, he guessed Arya and Eddard Stark were having a conversation. 

"Cas?" Dean called out. "I got ice cream."

Cas paused his episode.

"I mean, if you want. I guess," Dean added.

The door crept open slightly for Cas to poke his head out.

"What kind?" He asked.

"Almond," Dean answered, holding a tub up. "And uh- juice? I got juice."

Cas pondered for a while and finally slipped himself out the door as he eyed the items Dean bought. Dean watched him prepare a bowl and a glass for himself.

"Thank you," Cas said softly. He went back to the bedroom soon after.

Dean helped himself to some ice cream as well while he flicked through movies on TV. Taking a glance at the clock, he figured he should probably start preparing dinner.

Cas came out of the bedroom before Dean could think about moving from the couch.

"I'm making dinner," Cas announced.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "Uh, really? You don't have to."

"You don't have to either. I'm making dinner," Cas stated. And that was that, Cas was making dinner.

Dinner was quiet and for the first time, awkward, since they still didn't get to that talk. Dean would have given in to anything said between them, starters with Dean saying "I'm sorry for being a dick" and Cas replying with "Yes you were a dick but it's okay". Seriously. 

"Cas? Can we- please?" Dean asked after dinner. He sat on one end of the couch and gestured a hand to the other side.

"Please what?" Cas responded with, crossing his arms against his chest.

Dean sighed. "Settle this. I can't live like this any longer, okay? I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was a dick to you. I'm sorry I snapped at you with- that. You know I didn't mean to. But I'm sorry."

A few moments of silence followed.

"That's good," Cas said with a nod. Not letting Dean respond, he quickly paced back to the bedroom and shut the door.

_ What the fuck. _

"C'mon!" Dean hissed, soft enough for only him to hear. He shook his head in annoyance and stretched his body across the couch, laying out the blanket on him. He rested his face on his pillow and turned his body around to face the cushions completely. He wasn't in the mood to see anything else.

A few seconds later the sound of the bedroom door opening filled his ears, but Dean ignored it, assuming it was Cas going to freshen himself up with freakin' _grape juice_ at this time of the evening. 

Instead, not moments later with rapid footsteps, a heavy weight slipped beside Dean and curdled into his back.

Dean whipped his head around to see Cas burying his forehead into Dean's shoulder blades.

"It's okay," Cas murmured. He tugged on the extra blanket he brought with him and wrapped his other arm around Dean's waist.

Although he was a little surprised, Dean faced his body to Cas without hesitation and held onto him back. 

"I'm sorry," Dean repeated.

"And I forgive you. I'm sorry for overreacting." Their faces were close almost as much as their bodies were.

"No, I- I made a shit mistake. You should still be mad," Dean uttered.

Cas smiled and held onto his waist tighter. "I'm not."

Dean returned it by moving closer, shutting the distance between them. They probably hadn't kissed mouth-to-mouth in a while, or maybe it just felt like it with the half-silent treatment that went on.

They stayed like that on the couch, face-to-face with Cas' hands brushing the ends of Dean's hair.

"May I know what made you drink like that?" Cas asked after an appropriate time.

Dean didn't have much of answer for himself than he did for Cas. "Honestly? I don't know. I just kept going. I guess I felt- off, after our last hunt."

"It was tough, I'll agree with that."

"Yeah. That thing made me think that I lost everything," Dean confessed. "I thought I lost you."

Cas looked up at him. "Why am I only knowing this now?" He asked.

Dean shrugged. "Sorry. Just thought it was better to keep that locked up somewhere else."

"It never is. Do you understand me?" Cas stroked his cheek, serious eyes looking at him. "It never is."

"Yeah, Cas, I understand."

"Good. Now, I can't wait to tell you about how Sam was right about Game of Thrones."

++

Thankfully, they didn't have silent treatments or arguments that went on for more than a day, or weeks. There was once, though, where the both of them did nothing but yell at each other after a rough hunt.

++

"You mind explaining to me what the hell that was?" Dean started it, ramming the Impala's keys on the motel table as soon as they got in.

Cas sighed. "It was an honest mistake, I've told you-"

"Honest mistake? You nearly got yourself killed out there! That was closer than any close call we've ever- damn, what is with you lately?"

"I said I was sorr-"

"You can barely follow a single instruction without getting kicked back!" Dean yelled.

Cas narrowed his eyes at him. "I can't follow an instruction? Dean, I told you to wait for me, and you didn't. And because of that, everything could have screwed up."

Dean laughed bitterly. "Well don't put this on me, now. Because what happened back there was all you."

"I was trying to save you!" Cas snapped.

"Newsflash babe, that's not gonna help! Cause you getting murdered before my own eyes? Ain't gonna save me!"

Silence immediately fell between them. There was nothing left for Dean to say unless Cas responded.

Cas shook his head. "This one slip I make and- nothing will please you, will it?"

His tone was incredibly bitter. "What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked.

Cas turned his head away, chewing on his own lip. He swallowed hesitantly. "Is this- is this even right anymore?"

Dean froze at the words, and though he knew what Cas meant, he still asked. "What are you saying?"

"You know what," Cas said with a sigh. 

Dean had no idea how to respond. _Yes, you loser, this is right, and we're just having a fight right now, but I still fucking love you, and there's no way I'm letting you go this easy after all we've been through,_ he wanted to say. Every nerve in him felt like it was going to explode.

"Well- how am I supposed to answer that?" Dean replied with instead. "Do you not want it to be right?"

Cas shook his head. "Why would I not want that?"

"I don't know, you're talking and acting like you don't!" Dean hissed back.

"I- of course, I want it to be right. I can't imagine spending my life without you," Cas confessed in a soft voice.

"Yeah well. I can't without you either!" his voice cracked out loudly, and shit, since when did his eyes start getting wet? And since when were Cas' the same?

They both stared at each other for a long while, taking in every word they just exchanged. They hadn't had a fight like this before where both of them spat at each other, but it was made clear to them that they didn't want it to last any longer.

Cas wiped a hand across his face and sighed. "Rough hunt," He spoke.

Dean nodded his way. "Rough hunt." He looked away as Cas stepped closer to him, shortening the far space between them.

Cas got close enough to wipe a thumb across Dean's cheekbone.

"I'm sorry," Cas whispered. "I'm sorry, Dean. Will you forgive me?"

Dean stood there, lowering his eyes at the hand on his cheek. "Yeah, just- don't do that again. Okay?"

"Okay. I'm sorry," Cas said again. 

"Good. Me too."

"I'm sorry," Cas repeated gently and leaned his head next to Dean's. He pressed a soft kiss on Dean's cheek and turned his head away.

Dean rested his face in Cas' hair before dropping his head to his shoulder. Cas brought a hand up to Dean's back and rubbed it soothingly. Soon they were in each other's embrace, holding onto the other tightly as silence was exchanged between them.

++

Dean shuddered at the memory of that fight. If a few sentences were said wrongly by accident, by either of them, it could've been way worse. Dean was just thankful they were able to move forward from that not long later. 

The stop of water running in the shower snapped him out of his thoughts. Cas came out of the bathroom not two minutes later with a towel wrapped around his waist. He smiled at Dean before rummaging through his bag, holding the towel in place. 

"Where are we going for breakfast?" Cas asked.

Dean smirked. "Tiffany's, maybe?"

It took several moments for Cas to register that. "That's- incredibly lame," he teased with a smirk on his face. "It's as if that's all you've thought about since we got in New York."

Right. New York. How the hell did that happen again?

++

It was simple. It was a casual morning in their apartment, and Cas was making breakfast, following their routine. Dean used his spare time to fold the laundry lazily while he flicked through channels on television. 

His hands immediately paused in his folding when a familiar song came on. He looked up at the screen, and yeah, there it was.

He'd never actually seen the movie Arthur before, but Arthur's Theme was a song that stuck in his memory. He remembered the way his mother sang it softly in his company, along with his dad's; whether it was her tucking him to bed or her just getting some notes done for the house as she hummed the tune, or her curled up on the couch with Dad as the film played on TV. One time at the age of five, he could hear the song playing from the living room just after getting tucked in. So yeah, whenever the song came on coincidentally, Dean couldn't help but smile nostalgically and sing along as well.

" _When you get caught between the moon and New York City!_ " He belted out, completely off key. Okay, maybe it wasn't the same as his mom's soothing and gentle tone, but he gave no care.

He proceeded on with folding the laundry as he sang. " _I know it's crazy, but it's true._ "

Dean opened his mouth to sing along to the next lyrics only to freeze when he spotted Cas staring and leaning against the door frame with the most content smile. Dean beamed and blushed, ducking his head down, but he wasn't all that embarrassed. 

"Keep singing," Cas instructed.

Dean shook his head and dropped the clothing he was working on back into the basket. He held out his arms gesturing for Cas to come closer.  Cas did so. 

_"The best that you can do, is fall in love..."_ Dean sang, finishing the second chorus of the song. The instrumental still played in the background as Cas placed his hands in his. Dean instantly pulled him closer, catching him by surprise. 

Confusion mixed with fondness was written all over Cas' face. "You're in a good mood today," he stated.

"I love this song," Dean admitted. "You ever been to New York City, Cas?" He asked. They weren't exactly dancing, but they swayed their hands rhythmically enough to the music for the moment to feel absolutely-

Remarkable.

"I have. Once, when my mother was still alive. But I didn't get to see much of it. Have you?" Cas replied. 

Dean shook his head with a sad smile. "No. Always wanted to when I was a kid, though. You know, see the city and stuff."

Cas stared at him after that with a pensive look on his face. "Then we should do that," he said.

"What?" Dean asked, mildly confused, 'cause really, he was just singing.

Cas showed him a soft smile, tightening his hold of Dean's hands. "Let's go to New York."

Dean smiled back, raising his eyebrows. "You're serious?"

"Yes. We deserve a break, don't we?" Cas said casually. 

"And... how exactly are we dealing with _that_  budget?" Dean asked. Yeah, they had money to live with, but it was hardly enough to go on any vacation, plus the fact that Sam's scholarship was great, but it wasn't a full ride the whole way, and Sam's small job could flop at any given moment— not that Dean wanted it to.

Cas paused, thinking as he narrowed his eyes. "We could steal," he said. 

The sentence made Dean snort. "Right. Says the guy who doesn't have the heart to pick up ten dollars off the ground," he pointed out.

"You have a point. Alright, I'll find another way," Cas stated. 

Dean smirked. "You really don't have to, I was just rambling-"

"I want to. With you. It would be nice," Cas asserted. "And I know how much you secretly love Broadway."

"That is not-"

"We'll find a way."

So they did find a way. Ways, actually. Dean didn't tell him at first, but wherever they went, he won several pool games with more than a normal load of money. Dean had a tactic he learned from his dad.

Cas, on the other hand, secretly bought scratch tickets and made a few deals. Gabriel once taught him a few tricks he could use. 

When Cas won a certain amount he was absolutely appalled by, he went straight to Dean about it. Dean admitted he won some money too, and then there was a silly argument about that, since the subject of New York had only been brought up once which was weeks ago.

Then they both stopped and realized how dumb were they being.

"Castiel, would you have the honour to roam New York City with me?" Dean asked him.

"Yes, Dean. I would."

++

So there they were. Cas was still wrapped in a towel, wet hair shaped like a nest as he lied next to Dean, facing him while Dean lied on his back.

"You're getting your pillow wet," Dean complained.

"I don't care," Cas remarked. 

"Well it's freezing, you should probably put on some clothes."

"Okay," Cas muttered softly, still not moving from his place.

Dean glanced at him from the side, raising an eyebrow. "Why're you all weird?" He asked.

Cas stayed silent, pure content and relaxation sprawled over his face. All he did was move closer.

Dean let out a nervous laugh. "Seriously, what's up? Are you gonna be a sap again? You're always this way before you dictate some poem of yours. Alright, go ahead. Tell me the one about the green in my eyes," he teased, hoping to get a playful shove in return.

But Cas didn't do that, and he didn't "dictate some poem" like Dean said he would, and he didn't change the softness in his expression.

"Okay, now you're scaring me," Dean said. 

Cas tugged up the corners of his mouth as he uttered two words.

"Marry me."

That was one to send electric shocks right through Dean's body. They never talked about marriage before, and it didn't seem like Cas wanted to, because honestly, Dean wondered the point of it, but Cas was there at his side eyeing him like his heart had just opened to the light for the first time. Maybe, just maybe, Dean would go through with this.

"Could- could you repeat that to make sure?" Dean stammered out.

Cas tightened his lips together, narrowing his eyes as he looked up to a side of his brain.

"Marry... me?" Cas asked this time. "Okay, um, Dean Winchester, would you have the honour of becoming my husband?" He put it in a different form.

Dean's head cleared of everything else while his heart pounded in his chest. He didn't think about the questions in his head; who, what, where, when, how. All he knew was that Cas loved him, and he loved Cas. It was that simple. 

"Yes," Dean breathed out.

The tiny smile on Cas' mouth grew into a bright beam.

"Good."

"Great," Dean managed. He grinned, a chuckle letting itself out as well. Dean pressed himself closer and eventually rested their chests together. He smiled into their shared kiss, slow and steady and probably a bit lazy.

Once they pulled away, Cas grinned, shining from below him.

"Good."

++

It was a small, small, ceremony. Dean and Cas had only invited the people they kept in touch with; Bobby, the Harvelles, Sam, of course, Gabriel and Anna, and a few trustworthy hunters who they considered friends. Dean was hesitant on inviting some people, insisting they were  _way_ behind on equality, but Cas said it'd be rude to not even try. Most didn't show up, to Dean  _and_ Cas' relief.

It was barely grand. They didn't need anything fancy, but the atmosphere at The Roadhouse was cozy enough with a few pretty lights set up. Jo was ecstatic to set up the place, even when Dean and Cas made it clear that it wasn't necessary to just _give_  them the place to marry.

"Seriously guys, there's no rush, we don't need to start planning anything yet," Dean told them.

"Keep telling yourselves that and you'll be just engaged for another ten years," Ellen said. "Jo honey, get your notebook."

Without Jo and Ellen's insistence and help, Dean and Cas would probably have married in a barn or their apartment, for crying out loud.

So on the 24th of September, Dean and Cas were pronounced husbands, and they wouldn't ask for any other kind of wedding. 

Dean was thankful for Sam's presence to calm him down on the big day,  _multiple times._ Cas however, hid from nearly everyone who was giving off an ass load of pressure until the time to see Dean came. He managed to deal with Jo's friendly reassuring in the end much better he did with his siblings.

There wasn't an official honeymoon, but Dean and Cas did have another small break of just spending time together, before getting back to hunting. 

"Hunter husbands," Sam called them. Dean secretly liked the sound of it, but he still shot a glare at Sam for saying it.

"Or the hunter and the-"

"God, no, that's an awful title," Cas said before Dean could finish.

Pretending to be a married couple on hunts wasn't so difficult anymore, except that they weren't pretending at all.

Cas found it funny whenever people asked them, "So, how did you two meet?"

They'd exchange looks, and Dean would just smile and say the same thing.

"Ah, pretty simple. It started with a bar..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! It's done it's done it's done it's done it's done. 
> 
> Thank you for reading up till here, I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm glad I can finally move on from this story, since I've been just thinking and thinking about this for more than a year now. I'm sorry for the huge, huge delay for the updates, to anyone who's read it since the start.
> 
> I also apologize if there are still holes in the story, or if you don't find the finalization of a particular thing satisfying at all, or if there was anything written in here that offended you or made you uncomfortable, if there were sensitive topics in here that weren't written appropriately.
> 
> It's been a hurricane writing this fic, and I pretty much wanted to give up after five chapters, but I'm happy I didn't. Thank you once again, for reading, supporting me, leaving a kudos, and just- everything. Be free to leave a comment and kudos <3
> 
> Have a happy new year!


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